Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXXII No. 4, April 1848

"How many were your crew?" asked the mate.

The sailor started, and for a moment eyed the querist closely. "Oh! señor, only about fifty souls in all."

"Good God!" cried the captain, "fifty lives lost – fifty souls sent into eternity with scarcely a moment's warning!"

"Don't regret it, captain," said the sailor, bitterly, "many of them were only convicts; the government will be much obliged to you."

"Were you a convict?" asked the mate.

"I was, señor, as my dress and appearance would have told you, even if I had been disposed to lie. I was drafted from the Matanzas chain-gang to the guarda-costa some six month ago."

"The Matanzas chain-gang!" cried the mate, eagerly, "pray, my good fellow, do you know a convict by the name of Pedro Garcia?"

The man rose to his feet – "Why, señor, do you?" he inquired.

"I do, indeed," answered Mr. Stewart, impatiently; "but tell me – answer my question, sir."

The convict brushed back his long hair. "I was once called Don Pedro Garcia," said he; "tell me," he added, as all four of us rose involuntarily at this startling announcement, "with whom do I speak?"

"Good God!" cried the mate, making one jump for the convict felon, and throwing his arms around him, "I'm Ben Stewart, alive and well."

Very unluckily, at this moment the ship gave a violent lurch, and the two fell, and, locked in each others embrace, rolled over to leeward; the skipper, who was unguarded in his astonishment, followed Langley's former wake over the table, which, yielding to the impulse, fetched away, capsized, and with the captain, also rolled away to leeward; the steward, as in duty bound, ran to his superior's help.

At this juncture, Brewster, hearing the unusual row, poked his head through the skylight slide, and demanded – "What's the matter? Mutiny! by G – d!" he shouted, catching sight of the prostrate forms of his fellow officers, struggling, as he thought, in the respective grasps of the rescued convict and the steward. Off went the scuttle, and down came the valiant Brewster square in the midst of the crockery, followed by three or four of his watch, stumbling over the bodies of the overthrown quartette. Langley and myself climbed into a berth and looked on.

"It's the steward," shouted the mischievous third mate, whose love of fun could not be controled by fear of consequences; "he tried to stab the captain with the carving-knife."

The scene now became exciting; the cry of mutiny was heard all over the vessel; and the skipper and mate hearing it, very naturally concluding that the mutineers were those who had so unceremoniously invaded the cabin, turned furiously upon them, and called loudly for assistance to us in the berth; but we were enjoying the fun too much to even speak and explain.

"Are ye kilt, cap'n?" asked Teddy, who had pushed his way to his beloved commander.

"No, you d – d mutinous scoundrel!" replied the enraged skipper, planting a tremendous blow between the eyes of the anxious interrogator; "take that!" and the Irishman rolled upon deck. In the meantime, Mr. Brewster, who had taken an especial spite against the convict, grabbed him by the throat. Pedro returned the compliment by a blow in the stomach, and Stewart aided the defeat of his colleague by taking him by the shoulders and dragging him off. Transported beyond reason by the pain of the blow he had received, and what he supposed to be the black ingratitude of Mr. Stewart, Brewster gave a scream of rage and clinched in with the mate with all his force.

It was fast getting to be past a joke.

"Come, Langley," said I, "let's put a stop to this – somebody will be killed."

"Sure enough! but how are we going to do it? Oh! here are the mate's pistols; draw the charges, Frank, and you take one and I the other, and we'll soon proclaim peace."

"They're not loaded," said I, after trying them with the ramrod.

"All right, then – follow me."

"We jumped down from our roost, leveled our pistols at the crowd, and threatened to fire if hostilities should not instantly cease on both sides.

"Langley, hand me those pistols," cried the frenzied skipper, who was the more angry because nobody would fight with him.

"Please, sir, I can't; I daren't trust myself without 'em." Disperse, ye rebels! lay down your arms and disperse – die, base and perjured villain," shouted Langley, holding the muzzle of his pistol to Brewster's ear, while I, by poking my shooting-iron in everybody's face, obtained partial order. After a deal of difficulty the mutiny was explained; and the crestfallen Brewster withdrew his forces, followed by the mate, who conciliated his irate colleague, and gave him an inkling as to the real name and character of the rescued convict.

After the steward had cleared away the wreck of the breakfast things, a conclave of the cabin-mess was called, to which the black steward was ex officio and ex necessitate admitted; and it was determined, after much debate, that the voyage should be continued, and that during our stay in Matanzas my cousin Pedro should remain hidden on board. The next mooted point was whether to conceal the matter from the crew, and decided in the negative; so the men were called aft, and the truth briefly stated to them. One and all swore to be faithful and discreet – and so they proved. With one or two exceptions our crew were Yankees, and of a far higher grade than the crews of merchantmen generally.

During these proceedings the gale had rapidly abated, and at noon we found ourselves rolling and pitching in a heavy sea, the sun shining brightly over our heads, and not a breath of air stirring. The skipper, mate, and Cousin Pedro were closeted together in the cabin during the afternoon, while the second and third mates, and ship's cousin, compared notes sitting under the awning on the booby-hatch. I enlightened Brewster more fully as to Mr. Stewart's former adventures in Cuba; and we finally concluded that our running down the Spanish guarda-costa was the most lucky thing in the world.

"Half my plan is now accomplished to hand," said I; "we must now get my Cousin Clara out of the nunnery."

"You hadn't better try that, Frank," interposed Mr. Brewster, "because, for two reasons; in the first place, them Catholics are poor benighted heathen, and she wouldn't get out if she could – for she is a veiled nun; and the next place you'd get your neck into a certain machine called a garrote, or else make your cousin's place good in the chain-gang."

"Nevertheless, I shall try; and if she only is willing to run away, there can some plan be contrived, I know."

"And my part shall be to run old Alvarez through the body, if the devil hasn't taken him already," added Mr. William Langley.

"Boys will be boys, that's a fact, call 'em what you're a mind to," observed Mr. Brewster, very sapiently stroking his big red whiskers.

The calm continued, and by evening the swell had in a great degree gone down. In the first dog-watch, my Cousin Pedro, sitting upon the companion, gave us an account of his long imprisonment. He had, as the reader already knows, been sentenced for the murder of the Count – , and had toiled and slaved in the streets of Matanzas, till drafted, with many others, on board of the guarda-costa. He knew of Clara's fate, and had been undeceived by my father in the belief of Mr. Stewart's death.

Langley and I stood the middle watch again that night. An easterly breeze, gentle, but steady, blew most of the night; and when we went below, and eight bells struck, the moon was silvering the lofty peak of the Pan of Matanzas, which lay far away on our larboard bow.

CHAPTER VI.

The Gentile arrives at Matanzas

I was waked in the morning by Mr. Stewart, who shook me by the shoulders, crying, "Come, Frank, turn out; it's seven bells, so rouse and bite; breakfast is almost ready, and a glorious prospect from deck."

I turned out incontinently at this summons, slipped on my trowsers, ran up the companion-way, dipped my head in a bucket of water, by way of performing my morning ablutions, and then made my way aft again to join the circle on the quarter-deck. The watch had just finished washing down the decks, and were engaged in laying up the rigging on the belaying-pins; the boys were stowing away the detested-holy stone under the chocks of the long-boat; the watch below were performing their brief morning ablutions upon the forecastle; the steward was bringing aft the cabin breakfast, sadly incommoded by the mischievous Rover, who, wet as a sponge, capered about the deck, shaking himself against everybody who came in his way, and now seemed fully determined to dive between the lower spars of the unfortunate darkey; the officers were standing by my side, breathing the cool morning air, looking out upon the beautiful scene around us, and getting an appetite for breakfast.

The ship lay about a league from the land, almost abreast the entrance of Matanzas bay; the land wind blew gently, bearing to us the delicious perfumes of orange and coffee-blossoms, and crowds of vessels were coming from the bay, taking advantage of it to gain an offing before the setting in of the sea-breeze. Half a mile from us a brig lay motionless upon the water, her yards swarming with men loosing the sails, which in a moment fell together with a precision that would have plainly told a sailor that the brig was a man-of-war, even without taking notice of the delicate white ribbon painted upon her side, pierced by a half-dozen ports, from which protruded as many saucy-looking guns, their red tompions contrasting prettily with the aforesaid white line and the black sides of the vessel. A flag hung negligently down from her gaff end, and, as a puff of wind stronger than the rest blew out its crimson folds, we saw emblazoned thereon the cross of St. George and merry England. The brig was the British cruiser on this station. To the northward stretched the broad blue expanse of the sea we had so recently sailed on, looking to be as quiet and peaceful as if there were no such things as hurricanes and angry waves, and dotted here and there by the glistening sails of inward bound vessels. Far away to the westward a long black wreath of smoke, following in the wake of a small speck on the water, announced the approach of the Havana steam packet; and close in, hugging the shore, glided a solitary American barque, apparently bound to Havana to finish her freight, her white sails gleaming in the sun. The land seemed strangely beautiful to our sea-going eyes; and we were never tired with gazing at the tall, graceful palms, sheltering with their grateful shade white villas, situate in the midst of fertile fields of sugar-cane, and surrounded by little hamlets of white-washed slave huts. The overhanging haze of the distant city could be seen rising beyond the intervening hills, and the back-ground of the picture was formed by a range of blue conical peaks, amidst which towered in majesty the flat summit of the celebrated Pan of Matanzas.

"And I am once more in the West Indies!" murmured Mr. Stewart, half unconsciously. "How much has happened since my eyes first looked upon this landscape!"

"True enough!" added Pedro, sighing.

"Breakfas' gettin' cold, Cap'n Smiff," cried the steward, petulently, poking his head up the companion.

"Ay, ay," returned the skipper; "come, gentlemen, don't get into the dumps this fine morning; you ought to be rejoiced that you have found each other. Let's go below and take breakfast, and after that, Don Pedro, we must stow you in the run until after the officers have boarded us."

Breakfast being dispatched, all hands went busily to work preparing the ship for port. Our bends had been blacked in the two days of fair weather we had had off the Bahamas; and as our ship was a large, handsome, packet-built craft of seven hundred tons, we reckoned upon cutting a great swell among the brigs, barques, and small ships usually engaged in the sugar-freighting business. The brass of the capstan, wheel and ladder stanchions, were brightly polished by the steward and boys; fair leaders, Scotchmen and chaffing-gear taken off; ensign, signal and burgee-halyards rove; the accommodationladder got over the side; the anchor got ready, and the chain roused up from the locker. At ten o'clock we took the sea breeze and a pilot, passed Point Yerikos, and cracked gallantly up the bay with ensign, numbers, and private signal flying. Another point was turned, and the beautiful city came in view at the distance of a league, more than half the intervening space of water covered by ships of every nation, size, and rig, lying at anchor, from the huge British line-of-battle ship down to the graceful native felucca with latteen sails.

"Pilot," said Captain Smith, "if you will give us a first-rate berth, as near to the town as a ship of our size can load, I'll give you five dollars beside your fee."

"You shall have de ver fine berth, señor el capitaine. I will anchor you under de castle yonder; ver deep water, tree, four fathoms, and only one mile and more from the end of the mole."

The skipper exchanged glances with his mate.

"Their old berth," whispered Langley, sticking his elbow into my side.

We rapidly approached the castle, and the busy fleet at its foot; sail after sail was clewed up – the pilot's orders grew frequent and loud – the jib came fluttering down the stay – the anchor plunged into the water – the chain rattled swiftly through the hawsehole – we swung round with the tide, broadside to the fort, and "The voyage of the ship Gentile, Captain James Smith, commander, from Valetta toward Matanzas," as inscribed in the mate's log-book, was at an end.

The pilot was dismissed – our sails furled – the royal and topgallant-yards sent down – the lower and topsail-yards squared with nautical and mathematical precision – our fair-weather lofty poles, surmounted by gilt balls, sent up – awnings were spread completely over the deck – our crack accommodation-stairs got over the side – the swinging-boom rigged out – the boats lowered and fastened thereto – the decks swept clean, and the rigging laid up – and, by the time the custom-house boat boarded us, we were in complete harbor-trim, ship-shape and Bristol fashion; and the Spanish officers complimented the fine appearance of the vessel until the worthy skipper was greatly pleased.

An account was given of the running down of the San Diego, and of the miraculous escape of one of her crew, who, the skipper said, died the next day of his bruises. A name for this unfortunate man had been furnished by Pedro; and in our excess of caution, this was given to the officers as the name rendered by the survivor. The officers looked grave for a moment, but finally said that it was the act of God, and inevitable; and that as the crew had been principally convicts, it was not so much matter; and after drinking two or three bottles of wine, and taking bonds of the captain for the good behavior of our darkies, they departed.

CHAPTER VII.

Third Mate and Ship's Cousin go ashore on liberty

Many shipmasters and owners will remember how very dull were freights for Europe, at Cuba, in the spring and summer of 1839; and Captain Smith had been in Matanzas but a day or two when he became convinced of the unwelcome truth. We lay day after day sweltering in the sun, until nearly a week had passed, and there was as yet no freight engaged. As our orders were to lay four weeks waiting, unless we should be loaded and ready to sail before that time had elapsed, Langley and I determined that, as I had plenty of money, we would beg a week's liberty of the skipper in this time of idleness, and take a cruise ashore; and we had secretly resolved that in some manner, not yet discovered, we would effect the escape of my Cousin Clara – Langley also, in full intention to take the life of Don Carlos Alvarez, should he run athwart his hawse. Mr. Stowe had been on board during the first day or two after our arrival, and had given us both pressing invitations to spend a week at his house, and to renew our acquaintance with the girls. So the Saturday night after our arrival, Langley and I preferred our petition to the skipper at the supper-table.

"Why, boys," said our good-natured captain, "if I thought you wouldn't get into some confounded scrape, I'd as lief spare you awhile as not; we've nothing to do aboard ship, so – "

"Beg your pardon, Captain Smith," interrupted Mr. Brewster, who had been on bad terms with my friend William for a day or two; "I beg your pardon, sir, but there can be plenty of work to do. It's a slick time to refit the rigging."

"Why, Mr. Brewster," said the captain, "our rigging was thoroughly refitted at Valetta."

"Yes, sir, I know that, sir," persisted Brewster, "but we had a rough trip from there, sir; that last blow we had gin' our standin' riggin' a devil of a strainin', sir."

"Oh! well, Mr. Brewster," replied the skipper, "it'll take but a day or two to set up our shrouds, and I'm afraid we shall have plenty of time for that."

"Very well, Captain Smith," resumed the second mate, "it is nothing to me, sir. I'd as lief they'd be ashore all the time, sir, but before you give Mr. Langley leave, I'd just wish to enter a complaint against him, sir. I shouldn't thought of saying nothin' about it, only to see him coming and asking for liberty so bloody bold, just as if he reckoned he desarved it, makes me feel a leetle riley, sir. He was guilty of using disrespectable language to his superior officer, to me, sir, and upon the quarter-deck, too, sir, d – n him. You see, that night afore last, in his anchor-watch, it was rather warm in my state-room, so I went between decks to walk and cool off a little, and I heard Bill sitting on the booby-hatch and a spoutin' poetry to his-self. Well, I just walks up the ladder, pokes my head through the slide and hails him; but instead of answering me in a proper manner, what does he do but jumps off the hatch and square off in this manner, as if he was agoin' to claw me in the face, and he sings out – 'Are you a goose or a gobbler, d – n you?' I didn't want to pick a fuss before the rest of the watch, or by the holy Paul I'd a taught him the difference between his officer and a barn-yard fowl in a series of one lesson – blast his etarnal picter!"

"Mr. Langley," said the skipper, "what have you to say for yourself? Such language upon the quarter-deck to your superior officer is very impertinent."

"If you'll allow me," replied the accused, "I think I can give a version of the story which will sound a little different. You see, the second mate wears a night-cap, to keep the cockroaches or bugs out of his ears – "

"That's a lie," roared Brewster. "I wears it because I've got a catarrh, which I ketched by doing my duty in all weathers, long afore you ever dipped your fingers in pitch, you lazy son of a gun."

"Silence!" cried Captain Smith, suppressing a laugh. "Mr. Langley, never mind the night-cap, but go on with your story."

"Well," resumed the third mate, "he does wear one, any how, and night before last I sat on the hatch, as he says, reading Shakspeare in the moonlight, and when the second mate's night-capped head rose through the slide, he looked so very spectral that I couldn't forbear hailing him with – 'Art thou a ghost or goblin damned?' which he persists in rendering his own fashion. I'm sure I didn't intend to liken him to a barn-yard fowl of any kind; I should rather have gone into the stable in search of comparisons."

To the great chagrin and astonishment of Mr. Brewster, all hands of us burst into a roar of laughter; but Langley, by the skipper's advice, finally begged pardon, and peace and amity were restored. Brewster withdrew his objections, and the skipper granted us a week's liberty.

The next day, after dinner, the yawl was brought to the side and manned, and my chum and I prepared for our departure.

"Remember," quoth my cousin Pedro, as I bade him good-bye, in the mate's state-room, where, from extreme caution, he generally lay perdu, "remember to see Clara; tell her who you are, and bring us word from her."

"Yes," added the mate, "tell her of Pedro's escape, but do not undeceive her as to the belief of my death – that's too late now. God bless the dear girl!" and the voice of the usually stout-hearted seaman trembled as he spoke.

"Good-bye, Frank; good-bye, Bill," said Mr. Brewster, as we came on deck again, and shaking hands with us; "kiss all the girls for me, and bring off some good cigars the first time you come on board. These d – d bumboatmen don't have the best quality."

"Keep out of all manner of scrapes." added the captain, by way of climax. "However, I shall see you or hear of you every day, either at the house or counting-room."

"Ay, ay; yes, sir; oh! certainly; of course, sir; good-bye, shipmates; good-bye, sir;" shouted we, right and left, in reply to the divers charges, injunctions and parting salutations, as the boat pushed off.

"Now let fall, my men, give way," continued Bill. "By lightning! Frank, prehaps we wont have a spree!"

The ship's cousin replied only by an expressive pantomime.

Two Bowery clerks, driving a fast trotting-horse up the Third Avenue, may, in a measure, realize the feeling of intense pleasure which we experienced at this time.

Away we went in crack style, till, as we neared the mole, Langley gave the order "unrow;" six oar-blades instantly glittered in the sun, the bow-man seized his boat-hook, and our stout crew forced our way through the jam of ship and shore-boats to the landing stairs, saluted by a volley of oaths and interjections, selected with no great care from the vocabularies of almost every European and African language.

There is no place in the world which will seem, at first sight, more strange and foreign to a home-bred New Englander than the mole at Matanzas. It attracted even our eyes, which had last looked upon the picturesque groups in the streets and upon the quay of Valetta. Sunday is a holiday in Cuba, and a motley crowd had assembled under the cover of the immense shed which is built on the mole. Upon a pile of sugar-boxes near us were seated a group of Dutch sailors, gravely smoking, and sagely keeping silent, in striking contrast with a knot of Frenchmen, who were all talking at once and gesticulating like madmen. Here stalked a grave Austrian from Trieste, and yonder a laughing, lively Greek promenaded arm-in-arm with a Maltese. Hamburghers and Danes, Swedes and Russians, John Bulls by scores, Paddies without number, Neapolitans, Sicilians and Mexicans, all were there, each with fellows and some one to talk to. A group of emigrants, just landed from the Canary Islands, were keeping watch over their goods, and were looking with great interest and many earnest remarks upon this first appearance of their new home. Not far from them a collection of newly imported African negroes, naked, save a strip of cloth about their loins, were rivaling in volubility and extravagance of gesture even the Frenchmen. Native islanders, from the mountains, in picturesque, brigand-like dresses, with long knives stuck jauntily in their girdles, gazed with stupid wonder at the crowd of foreigners. Soldiers from the barracks, with most ferocious looking whiskers and mustaches, very humbly offered for sale little bunches of paper cigaritos. Black fruit women, whose whole dress consisted of a single petticoat of most laconic Fanny Ellslerish brevity, invited the passer by, in terms of the most affectionate endearment, to purchase their oranges, melons, and bananas. Young Spanish bloods, with shirt-bosoms bellying out like a maintop-sail in a gale, stalked along with great consequence, quizzing the strangers. Children, even of ten years of age, and of both sexes and all colors, naked as Job when he came into the world, excited the attention of no one but greenhorns like myself. Down East molasses drogher skippers, who, notwithstanding the climate, clothed themselves in their go-ashore long-napped black beaver hats, stiff, coarse broadcloth coats, thick, high bombazine stocks and cowhide boots, landed from their two-oared unpainted yawls, and ascended the stairs with the air of an admiral of the blue. Uniforms of Spanish, American, French and English navy officers were thickly scattered amidst the crowd, and here and there, making for itself a clear channel wherever it went, rolled the stalwart form of the Yankee tar.

"This is a regular-built tower of Babel," said Langley, at last, "but come, let's work out of 'em."