Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African Slaver
been disproved by the privateer's boatmen; and, as to the third, I at
once insisted upon the party's taking torches and accompanying me to
the graveyard, where, I told them, they would find--as, in truth, they
did--the valuables this villain had charged me with stealing. On our
way thither, I recounted the manner in which I detected his infamy.
Nest morning we divided into two parties, and taking the dogs,
proceeded in chase of the dastard Galician. He was quickly tracked by
the hounds and caught asleep, with two empty flasks beside him.
A drum-head court-martial at once convened for his trial, and it was
unanimously resolved to chain him to a tree, where he was to be left
exposed to the elements until he starved to death. The passive and
silent fit had again come over Gallego. I implored that the sentence
might be softened, but I was laughed at for my childish pity, and
ordered home to the _rancho_. The command to chain him having been
executed, the Spanish outcast was left to his terrible fate. One of
the men, out of compassion, as he said, secretly conveyed a case of
gin to the doomed man, and left it within reach, either to solace his
departure from the world, or to render him insensible. But his end was
speedy. Next morning the guard found him dead, with six empty bottles
out of the case. His body was denied the rites of sepulture. It was
left lying in chains as he perished, to rot in the sun and be devoured
by the insects generated from his decay.
CHAPTER VI.
When these dreadful scenes were over, Don Rafael took me aside with
the pleasant news that the time for my liberation was indeed arrived.
He handed me one hundred and twenty-five dollars, which wore my share
of the proceeds of our lawful fishing. "Take the money," said Rafael,
with a good deal of feeling; "take it, young man, with _perfect_
confidence;--_there is no blood on it!_"
My preparations for departure were quickly made, as Bachicha was in
the cove with his craft ready to take me to the mainland. I bade a
hasty adieu to the gang; and perhaps it is rare that any one ever
abandoned the companions of several months' intimacy with so little
pain. Rafael's solicitude for my character touched me. He had done all
in his power to preserve my self-respect, and I was, therefore, well
disposed to regard the good counsel he gave me at parting, and to
believe in his sincerity when he pictured a bright future, and
contrasted it with his own desolation and remorse.
"I have recommended you, _hijo mio_, to a friend in Regla, on the
opposite side of the harbor at Havana, who will take care of you. He
is a _paisano_ of ours. Take these additional ten ounces, which are
the fruit of honest labor. They will help you to appear properly in
Havana; so that, with the care of Bachicha and our Regla countryman, I
don't despair of your welfare. ADIOS! _para siempre!_"
And so we parted;--and it was, indeed, an adieu for ever. We never
met again, but I heard of Don Rafael and his fortunes. The new
enterprise with the pilot-boat turned out successfully, and the band
acquired considerable property on the island before the piratical
nests along the coast of Cuba were broken up by cruisers. Rafael had
some narrow escapes from the noose and the yard arm; but he eluded the
grasp of his pursuers, and died a respectable _ranchero_ on a
comfortable farm in the interior of the Queen of the Antilles.
* * * * *
The light winds of summer soon brought us inside the Moro Castle, past
the frowning batteries of the Cabanas, and at anchor near Regla,
within the beautiful harbor of Havana. I shall never forget the
impression made on my mind by this delicious scene as it first broke
on my sight at sunrise, in all the cool freshness of morning. The
grand amphitheatre of hills swept down to the calm and lake-like water
with gentle slopes, lapped in the velvet robes of richest green, and
embroidered, as it were, with lace-like spots of castle, fort,
dwelling, and villa, until the seaward points were terminated on the
left, by the brilliant city, and on the right by a pile of majestic
batteries.
This grand and lasting impression was made almost at a glance, for,
at my time of life, I was more concerned with man than nature, and
rarely paused to dwell on the most fascinating scenery. Accordingly,
I hastened to Regla with my letter of introduction, which was
_interpreted_ by Bachicha to the Italian grocer, the friend of
Rafael, to whom I was confided. _Il signore Carlo Cibo_ was an
illiterate man of kind heart, who had adventurously emigrated from
Italy to furnish the Havanese with good things; while, in return, the
Havanese had been so pleased with his provender, that Carlo may be
said to have been a man "very well to do in the world" for a
foreigner. He received me with unbounded kindness;--welcomed me to
his bachelor home;--apologized for its cold cheerlessness, and
ordered me to consider himself and his "_casa_" entirely at my
disposal as long as I chose to remain.
I was content to accept this unstinted hospitality for a few days,
while I ran over the town, the hills, and the _paseos_; but I could
not consent to dally long eating the bread of idleness and charity. I
observed that my friend Carlo was either the most prudent or least
inquisitive man I knew, for he never asked me a question about my
early or recent history. As he would not lend the conversation to my
affairs, I one day took the liberty to inquire whether there was a
vessel in port bound to the Pacific Ocean or Mexico, in which my
protector could possibly find a situation for me as an officer, or
procure me permission to work my way even as a common sailor.
The kind grocer instantly divined my true motive, and while he honored
me for it, deprecated the idea of my departure. He said that my visit,
instead of being a burden, was a pleasure he could not soon replace.
As to the expenses of his house, he declared they were, in fact, _not_
increased. What fed five, fed half a dozen; and, as to my proposal to
go to Mexico, or any other place in Spanish America on the Continent,
with a view of "making my fortune," he warmly protested against it, in
consequence of his own experience.
"They can never conquer their jealousy of _foreigners_," said Carlo;
"you may live with them for years, and imagine yourself as intimate as
brothers; but, at last, _carramba_, you will find something turn up,
that marks you an alien and kindles nationality against you. Take my
advice, Don Teodore, stay where you are; study Spanish carefully; get
the hang of the people; and, my life on it, before long, you'll have
your hands full of trump cards and the game in your power."
I did as he desired, and was presented to a corpulent old quiz of a
_padre_, who pretended to instruct me in classical Castilian. Two
lessons demonstrated his incapacity; but as he was a jolly gossip of
my grocer, and hail-fellow with the whole village of Regla, I thought
it good policy to continue his pupil in appearance, while I taught
myself _in private_. Besides this, the _padre_ was a _bon vivant_ and
devoted lover of fish. Now, as I happened to be a good sportsman, with
a canoe at my command, I managed to supply his kitchen with an
abundance of the finny tribe, which his cook was an adept in
preparing. It may be supposed that our "fast days" were especial
epochs of delicious reunion. A fine dinner smoked on the table; a good
bottle was added by the grocer; and, while my entertainer discussed
the viands, I contrived to keep him in continual chat, which, in
reality, was the best practical lesson a man in my circumstances could
receive.
* * * * *
It is strange how our lives and destinies are often decided by
trifles. As I sailed about the harbor in idleness, my nautical eye and
taste were struck by the trim rig of the sharp built "slavers," which,
at that time, used to congregate at Havana. There was something
bewitching to my mind in their race-horse beauty. A splendid vessel
has always had the same influence on my mind, that I have heard a
splendid woman has on the minds of other men. These dashing _slavers_,
with their arrowy hulls and raking masts, got complete possession of
my fancy. There was hardly a day that I did not come home with a
discovery of added charms. Signor Carlo listened in silence and nodded
his head, when I was done, with an approving smile and a "_bueno!_"
I continued my sailing peregrinations for a month around the harbor,
when my kind entertainer invited me to accompany him aboard a vessel
of which, he said, he owned two shares--_she was bound to Africa!_ The
splendid clipper was one of the very craft that had won my heart; and
my feverish soul was completely upset by the gala-scene as we drifted
down the bay, partaking of a famous breakfast, and quaffing bumpers of
Champagne to the schooner's luck. When she passed the Moro Castle we
leaped into our boats, and gave the voyagers three hearty and tipsy
cheers. My grocer was a "slaver!"
I had a thousand questions for the Italian in regard to the trade, now
that I found _he_ belonged to the fraternity. All my inquiries were
gratified in his usually amiable manner; and that night, in my dreams,
I was on board of a coaster chased by John Bull.
My mind was made up. Mexico, Peru, South American independence,
patriotism, and all that, were given to the breezes of the gulf. I
slept off my headache and nightmare; and next morning announced to
Cibo my abandonment of the Costa Firma, and my anxiety to get a
situation in a vessel bound to Africa.
In a few days I was told that my wishes would perhaps be gratified, as
a fast vessel from the Canaries was about to be sold; and if she went
off a bargain, Signor Carlo had resolved to purchase her, with a
friend, to send to Africa.
Accordingly, the Canary "GLOBO" was acquired for $3000; and after a
perfect refitting at the Casa-Blanca of Havana, loomed in the harbor
as a respectable pilot-boat of forty tons. Her name, in consequence of
reputed speed, was changed to "El Areostatico;" a culverine was placed
amidships; all the requisites for a slave cargo were put on board;
fifteen sailors, the refuse of the press-gang and jail-birds, were
shipped; powder, ammunition, and small arms, were abundantly supplied;
and, last of all, four kegs, ballasted with specie, were conveyed into
the cabin to purchase our return cargo.
It was on the 2d of September, 1826, after a charming _dejeuner_, that
I bade farewell to my friend Carlo on the deck of the Areostatico,
cleared for the Cape de Verd isles, but, in truth, bound for the Rio
Pongo. Our crew consisted of twenty-one scamps--Spaniards, Portuguese,
Frenchmen, and mongrels. The Majorcan captain was an odd character to
intrust with such an enterprise, and probably nowhere else, save in
Havana at that period, would he have been allowed to command a slaver.
He was a scientific navigator, but no sailor;--afraid of his shadow,
he had not a particle of confidence in his own judgment; every body
was listened to, and he readily yielded his opinions without argument
or controversy. Our chief officer, a Catalonian cousin of the captain,
made no pretensions to seamanship, yet he was a good mathematician. I
still remember the laughs I had at the care he took of his lily-white
hands, and the jokes we cracked upon his girl-like manners, voice, and
conversation. The boatswain, who was in his watch, assured me that he
rarely gave an order without humming it out to a tune of some favorite
opera.
In this fantastic group, I occupied the position of supernumerary
officer and interpreter; but accustomed, as I had been, to wholesome
_American_ seamanship and discipline, I trembled not a little when I