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| A Peruvian soldier and his wife (Library of Congess) |
It is no uncommon sight to see a private with toes peeping out of his dilapidated shoes, his chin dirty from neglect of proper and periodical use of the razor and his hair exhibiting unmistakable evidence of long estrangement from the comb. He may well sport a fancy chain of gilt brass and a “Birmingham gold” ring on his finger.
These arduous devotees to Mars are nearly all married, though they are not permitted to reside with their wives, either in or out of quarters. When the men are in barracks it is quite a sight at meal times to see two or three hundred wives squatting on the waste piece of ground outside the gates preparing the “Savoury” dishes for their “Lords and masters”. Some of the men spend their whole pay (which amounts to about twenty cents, or ninepence, a day) on their stomachs leaving their better halves to procure their own necessaries as best they can – often at the cost of compromising their honour and violating their solemn marriage vows.
During my stay in this “great and mighty” republic I have not seen more than two natives who have reached the age of three score years. It is a fact worthy of notice that the majority of these people die between the ages of twenty and thirty. Whether or not this is owing to the climate (which is a very pleasant one having no winter), to the lazy lives the people lead or to the large quantity of bad spirits they consume in a lifetime, who can tell? They are in general an idle, drunken, gambling, worthless race and seem incapable of any instinct beyond that of satisfying their morbid appetites.
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| Veiled ladies of Lima (Jay Monaghan) |
The ladies of Peru are really specimens of great beauty. I do not suppose any other country in the World (excepting perhaps Spain) contains more handsome brunettes. They none of them wear bonnets or hats, either in their dwelling or when walking or riding out. Generally their outdoor costume is a handsome, expensive and well-fitting dress of black silk or satin (usually the former). A large shawl of the same colour, edged with fine silk lace, often interwoven with beads, envelopes the upper part of their body leaving only the eyes and nose visible. It is difficult to recognize a lady a second time after seeing her in this costume.
The streets of Callao are very narrow and dirty and are filled with long rows of one or two story houses. No open ground is ever left between them.
The inhabitants are supplied with water for culinary and other purposes by Negroes and Chinamen who hawk it by the barrel on the backs of thoroughly domesticated Jerusalem ponies.
The town is lighted by camphene or coal-oil lamps placed at intervals along the streets in glass casements similar to those used in lampposts in England.
The Peruvian authorities have a mode of treating their criminals and prisoners generally which would I think, if adopted in England, have a very beneficial effect on that class of the community whom it would be most likely to affect. They march them through the principal streets of the town twice a day on their way to and from their labours at the Alameda51.
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| The Alameda, Lima (Flickr, Armando Huaylinos Hermoza) |
In these “open air exercises” the prisoners are escorted by a long file of armed soldiers walking in procession on each side of them. Thus any attempt to escape would prove futile. The miscreants naturally hang down their heads being ashamed to gaze on the countenances of their better-behaved fellow beings.
Fruit of every description abounds in the Country and is consequently sold at a low price. Pineapples, pomegranates, figs, dates, grapes, oranges, limes, quinces, pears, apples, plums, strawberries, peaches and cherries each have their season and are exposed in large quantities in the public “plaza” or market place.
Sunday is the great holiday of all Spanish and Spanish-American people and here it is no exception. The people may be seen gaily dressed out in their best, going to prayers in the early morning or, in the afternoon, enjoying themselves horse-racing, gambling and bull-fighting and, in the evening, at the theatre. The vendors of refreshments, liquors and cigars all depend on having as much business on the Sabbath as in the six previous days put together – and this is generally the case.
Sunday is also “Liberty Day” for the sailors belonging to the naval & merchant vessels lying in port and many a hard-earned dollar Jack leaves in the town and finds nothing for it in the next morning but a racking headache and a strong disinclination to resume his monotonous line of duty aboard ship.
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| A Fandango c 1865 – possibly in Peru (Georg Westermann Verlag) |
I had on one occasion an opportunity of being present at a “Fandango” or Spanish ball given in honour of the departure of the Spanish squadron. The hall was spacious and brilliantly illuminated. The walls were tastefully decorated. Instead of a numerous orchestra of brass instruments the company danced to the music of a violin and several guitars, this latter instrument being the favourite of the country. I was somewhat interested in the execution of a native dance called a “Quaker”. A number of señor and señoritas sat in a circle round the dancing party, clapping their hands to the time of the music and humming a song in a very doleful strain. I was greatly disappointed in the dancing of the ladies. I expected to see a great display of ability and grace in their movements. They stood upright, their hands down by their sides and their eyes fixed on the ground before them and sliding about without any perceptible means of motion, for their feet were invisible and the hem of their dresses forming a perfect circle around them, reaching to the ground.
They looked as grave as though they were going through some religious ceremony, their faces as little exited as their limbs and on the whole, instead of the spirited fascinating dances I had expected, I found the “Fandango” on the part of the women at best a very lifeless affair.
The men did better. They danced with much grace and spirit, moving in circles round their nearly stationary partners and showed their well-attired figures to great advantage.
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| Boy on horse (Wikimedia) |
The Peruvians, like the Spanish from whom they are descended, are very splendid and accomplished equestrians. There are probably no better riders in the World. They get upon a horse when only four or five years old, their little legs too short by half for the animals’ sides. They may be said to keep on them ‘till they grow to him.
The stirrups are boxed up in front to keep the feet free from underbrush when riding through the woods. The saddles are large and heavy, strapped very tight to the animal’s back, and have large pommels in front round which the rider coils his “lasso” when not in use.
When they wish to show their activity, they make no use of the stirrups in mounting, but strike the horse, spring into the saddle as he starts and, sticking their spurs into him, are off on full gallop. These spurs are cruel instruments of torture. They have four or five rowels [spiked revolving discs at the end of a spur] each about an inch in length, dull and rusty.
During my short stay in Callao, I was much pleased to get the loan of a Manchester Weekly Examiner and Times. I had not seen a paper from home for many months so that this one was especially welcome. No one has ever been in a distant country, long absent from home, who cannot understand the delight that is caused by the perusal of a newspaper from one’s own native place. Nothing carries you to a place or makes you feel so perfectly at home.
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| An 1857 advertisement for the Manchester Weekly Examiner and Times |
I read every part of it: “Sales by Auction”, “Cheap Trips”, “Houses to Let”, “Clerks &co Wanted”, “Apartments to Let” and “Lost, Stolen or Strayed”. Unconsciously I found myself at home in Cheetham Street, reading the same paper by a cheerful hearth. I went, in mind, to Blackpool, Southport and Lytham. I enjoyed the sea breezes and the evening promenade. I heard the Blackpool Band discoursing their miserable strains. Then I saw the puppet show at the Claremont Hotel.
I rambled on the cliffs again and ate oatmeal cakes in the glen. And when I had recovered from my daydream I found myself in a strange and, to my feelings, uncongenial country, sick, destitute and miserable, longing for an opportunity to recall the last years of my wasted life and to be again placed in the Country House in Portland Street with the benefit of good example and precept. Oh! What a different life it should be!; And yet how vain these reminiscences and these determinations! The drunkard resolves to drink no more. The thief resolves to become honest. But then how easily over and away to the winds go their resolutions.
May 30th 1866
Shipped as Steward of the British Barque “Delhi” of Liverpool with Mr J Doyle the Master to go to the Chincha Islands [150 km south of Lima] and load guano52 for England. Went aboard and commenced work.
Laid in Callao Harbour discharging cargo and receiving ballast till [stiff clay containing boulders, sand etc].
June 20th 1866
We lie in a long line of ships and every Sunday it is astonishing to see how many nations are represented here. In the same line as ourselves I can see American, Bremen, Hamburg, Dutch, Swedish, French, English, Chilean, Peruvian, Portuguese and Italian Ensigns at the various peaks.
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| A couple of years after Henry sighted her in Callao "Wateree" came to a watery end! (Wikimedia) |
| The remains of the Wateree's boilers on the shore north of Arica (Wikimedia) |
This being Her Majesty’s Coronation day, the British men of war “Leander”, “Topaze” and “Mutine” and the US gunboats “Wateree”, “Powhattan”, “Suanee” and “Nyack” fired simultaneously a royal salute at noon.
June 20th 1866, 4pm
Got under way during which I fell down the main hold onto some old barrels and severely hurt my back & side. I had to lay up for four days.
June 27th 1866
After seven days of head winds and calms we arrived and anchored off the North Island and next morning we were towed up to the middle Island Channel We moored the ship, unbent the sails and made preparation for 65 laying days.
July 4th 1866
This is the “Great and Glorious Fourth”, the day of all days with Americans. There are a good many US vessels lying here at present and the captains have got up a regatta today. There was some good sport but, had the English captains withheld their support and patronage, the affair would have been a very consumptive one indeed. Nearly every vessel in the port displayed every available inch of bunting.
The Chincha Islands
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| The Chincha Islands, 1863 (Wikimedia) |
These are three in number situated about 15 miles South of Callao. They are rapidly gaining popularity as a good and profitable rendezvous for vessels requiring cargoes for Europe. The article being exported from this place is guano (or as it is spelt in Spanish, “Huano”) and contains a very large amount of Ammonia. Consequently the odour arising from it is strong and anything but agreeable to the nasal organs of Europeans generally.
The company who at present hold and work the Islands employ a great number of Chinese coolies imported expressly for the purpose. The guano is cut and wheeled by these men down to the heads of the various shoots under which launches carrying from 5 to 15 tons each are made fast to receive loads. The launch, which is generally in the charge of a “Launchero” [latin-American word for the driver of a small boat] is then taken alongside the vessel from which it hails. The cargo is then taken aboard ship in tubs hoisted by means of horses. Nearly every vessel that comes hires one of these quadrupeds. They are well-trained, hard-working animals and seem to me to understand both Spanish and English thoroughly.
I went ashore on the South Island one afternoon and picked up several eggs and a few sculls – the latter probably belonged to either sea lions or seals as these creatures abound in large numbers all round the islands.
During my stay here I was often amused at the gambols of the seals. They catch and eat a fish called a mullet which is very plentiful here. But the seal does not seem to be able thoroughly to digest a whole fish at once. In order to render it more convenient he holds the head in his mouth and, coming to the surface of the water, shakes his head violently and thus breaks the fish into a number of smaller pieces. Any number of small birds are constantly hovering around on the lookout for a seal at breakfast. When the operation commences they poise over his head and watch where the fragments of fish fly to. From them they make a hearty breakfast themselves. As soon as the meal is finished, his sealship amuses himself by rolling about as near the surface as possible and basking in the sunshine.
When a vessel has completed her loading, the crew gather together on the forecastle and give three hearty cheers for their own ship – and occasionally one or two for their neighbours if the Captain and officers happen to be popular.
In the evening the forward part of the ship is suddenly illuminated as eight bells are struck. From the poop blue lights and lockets are freely issued.
Invariably, on the occasion of a vessel leaving port, the Captain gives a party and everyone in the harbour who claims the slightest acquaintance with him considers himself fully justified in participating in the repast.
During our stay here I made no less than three “fish pots” but regret that I had no success with them, the first being stolen and the others carelessly lost.
28th 1866
Anniversary of Peruvian Independence. Ship dressed fore and aft.
Sep 2nd 1866 (Saturday) [probably the 1st – the 2nd was actually a Sunday]
Having completed our laying days and received a full cargo (911 tons) we attempted this morning to get up our forward and stern moorings. We worked the whole day, endeavouring by every means to clear the starboard bower anchor which had got foul of the stern moorings of our neighbour, the Italian Barque “Elvezia”. However, we found it impossible to get away today.
Sep 3rd 1866 (Sunday) [probably the 2nd]
This morning we were more successful and, at 10am, got under way for Callao.
Sep 4th 1866 (Tuesday) [now he’s got it right!]
After 2⅓ days of fair winds – though very light – we arrived and anchored in Callao Harbour at 6am.
Sep 6th 1866 (Thursday)
The Captain has paid off the Chinchas crew and shipped another for home. They came aboard today and, from all appearances, look like men capable of performing their duties (which bye the bye are not of the simplest kind) in a voyage round Cape Horn or, as it is generally called “The Horn”.
We have now aboard 15 hands all told and this is considered by the Captain to be a sufficient complement. They are the Captain, the Chief Mate, the Carpenter, Sailmaker, Steward, Cook, Boy and eight seamen.
Sep 9th 1866 (Sunday)
Sailed from Callao at noon – homeward bound.
Sep 13th 1866
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| Cape Pigeon (Wikimedia) |
Hooked five cape pigeons and, the following day, skinned and cooked two of them.
Oct 1st 1866
Hooked eight gulls and kept them on deck for several days.
Oct 8th 1866
Exchanged signals with the fine clipper ship “Swallow” from Callao bound for Hampton Roads53 for orders. She passed us in fine style and, two hours after signalling, was quite out of sight.
Oct 11th 1866
Rounded Cape Horn and altered course to E.N.E.
Oct 14th 1866 (Sunday)
Experienced a heavy gale of wind, shipped an immense quantity of water and had to knock out portions of the bulwarks to let it out. From half past 4am to 9pm we were busily engaged in baling out the cabin.
Oct 19th 1866
My birthday – and a most miserable one. The bad weather still continues and everyone is anxious to see a change. A great deal of huano has come up these last few days when pumping ship. Some expect to find the cargo in a very bad condition.
Oct 21st 1866
The skipper caught a fine albatross today measuring 12 ft from tip to tip.
Oct 22nd 1866
Saw a large, long iceberg about 10 miles astern of us. The captain and mate estimated that it could not be less than 40 miles in length.
Oct 28th 1866
Exchanged signals with the English ship “Norfolk” but, as we were sailing in opposite directions, could not ascertain particulars.
Nov 5th 1866
A new Bedford whaler hove in sight today. We hoisted our signal “What Longitude have you?” but, receiving no reply, concluded that they had no code of signals aboard.
Nov 9th 1866
Good weather has now fairly set in. What a change from the 9th of last month when we were “tempest tossed” experiencing heavy, and to our old frail barque, dangerous weather. This was to say nothing of our own sufferings day and night from extreme wet and cold. We have for the last few days had a scorching sun and sultry weather. Scarcely a zephyr disturbed the tranquillity of the bosom of the ocean so all hands are busy painting ship along and aloft. The Captain, a naturally disagreeable and fault-finding man at the best of times, is particularly cross and severe during this weather. He is at present, to use the language of one of the men, “working them like horses and treating them like dogs”. From 5.30am to 6.30pm they are ruled with an iron hand and “worked up” continually. The address and general deportment of this “Man clothed in a little brief authority” reminds one most forcibly of those characters depicted so ably by Mrs H B Stowe in her Anti-slavery Works as Southern Plantation Overseers. The Mate, Mr Chas West, who is really a hard-working, energetic and attentive officer, though performing with the men the most menial duties in the ship, fails to give the Skipper satisfaction. Many a dirty, uncalled-for insinuation he has to take in silence from this man who, though at present his master, is in no single respect his equal either as a man or a seaman. Such a man as Captain Doyle has no right to rise to a higher position, or a more dignified occupation than that of digging turf or his native pie fruit, Irish potatoes. There is not a man aboard who entertains the least particle of respect towards him or who regards him in any other light than that of a mean, sneaking, soulless despot.
Nov 10th 1866
We have now had the Albatross aboard three weeks though, during that time, he has tasted neither food nor water. By the “old man’s” orders, killed him today.
Nov 11th 1866
At 2pm we saw distinctly, and at the same moment, Sun Moon and stars.
Nov 15th 1866
At daybreak we sighted a small brig heading about N.E. We were unable to come within hailing or signalling distance though our Captain was anxious to do so. He had been trying for the day or two past to get a sight of the Island of Trinidad so as to correct his longitude as the chronometer aboard here is considerably at fault.
Nov 16th 1866
Killed and cooked a young shark measuring 5 ft. Secured his jaw and backbone.
Nov 17th 1866
Yesterday we cooked some of the shark and some of us ate a portion for supper. The captain gave his favourite cat Tom a small quantity and this morning he found the poor creature dead. Thank goodness no person aboard has as yet experienced any sensations of sickness and, it is to be hoped, will not do so. But I have resolved never to eat such stuff again. It is evident the meat possesses poisonous qualities, if not in large quantities, at least large and strong enough to kill an animal. This theory of course does not always hold good as, for instance, a man may use tobacco in considerable quantities, and for many tears, without experiencing any unfavourable symptoms of declining health, whereas one drop of the narcotic oil has been found sufficient to kill a dog.
However, at sea, a man has to eat many things that under any other circumstances, his palate would loathe and not partake of unless compelled by the pangs of hunger. I am sure I dread to think of the quantity of filth and the number of disagreeable and obnoxious insects I have masticated and often failed to digest during the short time I have been going to sea.
Nov 25th 1866 (Sunday)
At 8am sighted two vessels right ahead and, at 8.30am, exchanged signals with one of them – a Prussian Barque bound south. At 9.00am exchanged signals with the other, a small Barque under the Portuguese flag and with passengers probably bound for Monte Video. The difference between their separate longitude accounts was 60 miles, or four hours mean Greenwich time.
Nov 26th 1866
Seventy eight days out from Callao – crossed the equator at 4.00pm. This is the fourth time I have crossed the line and I think I may safely expect, the last.
The Captain is laid up sick but, as he never sympathises with, or offers any consolation to any one else aboard who may happen to be suffering, no one feels for him in the least. I think I would be expressing the sentiments of everybody aboard if I said the wish was general to see him sooner worse than better.
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| A typical holy stone |
The whole crew are on their hands and knees using what sailors generally term “prayer books” i.e. Holy Stones. The “King of Delhi” says he will have every plank of the ship’s deck as bright as when they were new. I wish he may, but I doubt it!
Nov 27th 1866
At 11.00am exchanged signals with a large English ship bound South.
Nov 28th 1866
A steamer heading N.W. in sight nearly all day.
Nov 29th 1866
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| Flying fish (exoccetus exsiliens) (Animal locomotion, Pettigrew & Bell) |
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We have seen a great many flying fish, dolphin and other inhabitants of the deep. These last few days one of the former flew into the forecastle in the early watch this morning. One of the men made a breakfast of the body and I dried the wings.
Nov 30th 1866
Summers, one of the forward hands, got knocked down for his insolence and then put below in irons.
Dec 1st 1866
The captain made an entry in the case of Summers in the official log book, read it to the prisoner, then released him and sent him to his duty.
A small barque, whose nationality we did not manage to distinguish passed close on our stern at daylight.
Dec 2nd 1866 (Sunday)
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| Turtle with pilot fish (Flickr: Genek´s cards) |
Twelve weeks out today. A fine turtle, with three very pretty striped pilot fish, was basking astern of us today as we lay becalmed. The carpenter threw his harpoon, but missed his mark and we saw no more of his turtleship. I was much surprised to see this creature so far at sea. I was always under the impression they staid near land.
At 3pm we saw a water sprout about 30 miles on our lee quarter.
Dec 3rd 1866
A fine, brand-new, American clipper passed close to this morning at 8am. Our captain hoisted his usual 293854 (what longitude have you) but, either from inability or indisposition to answer so insignificant a looking craft as we are, the stranger displayed no bunting.
Dec 7th 1866
A number of dolphins have been displaying their agility round the bow nearly all day so, in the afternoon, I went out on the flying jib boom with hook and line. After a while I managed to catch a very fine one, but a shoal of flying fish playing around attracted the attention of the rest and I had to put up my line.
Dec 14th 1866
The mate (Mr West) has been ailing for a day or two past and today has been so unwell as to be unable to attend to his duty. He is therefore in his room. Overwork, and the brutal conduct of the Captain, have doubtless brought about his indisposition. Two strange sails in sight today but at too great a distance to communicate.
Dec 16th 1866
Fair wind, all sails and studding sails with a fair prospect of spending New Year’s day in port.
Dec 18th 1866
The favourable wind we have had the last two days would have taken us to Queenstown55 in nine days easily but unfortunately it shifted this morning to N.E. so we can only steer N.N.W.
Dec 19th 1866
Mr West resumed duty the first watch this morning.
Dec 23rd 1866
Again we have a fair wind. Every available inch of canvas is spread and the old “Delhi” is astonishing everybody by going 7½ knots and, what is better, direct for Cork. Everyone is in a good humour at the prospect of a speedy release from this miserable, monotonous state of things.
Dec 24th 1866
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| Pico, Azores, 1834 (Edward Boid, Day & Haghe) |
At 2am sighted the Peak of Pico one of the Azores or Western Islands. For nearly half a day we lay becalmed about three miles from land. With the aid of a glass saw the houses, churches and orange groves most distinctly.
Dec 25th 1866
Sighted St Michael’s at noon. This is the fifth Christmas from home and the fourth I have spent aboard ship. It is also the most miserable one since I left England. God grant I may never spend another such one! I cannot help thinking today what a happy season this is at home and how differently and in what comparatively comfortable circumstances all my friends in Manchester are celebrating this happy day.
Dec 29th
Mr West went aloft this morning about half past three to look for signs of some sunken rocks marked on the chart as existing in the neighbourhood of our present position and, by some unforeseen rotten state of a footrope, fell from the starboard main yard onto the deck. He was picked up insensible and his injuries attended to as far as circumstances would permit. During the afternoon he was much easier but he has doubtless hurt himself severely.
Dec 30th 1866 (Sunday)
Sixteen weeks today since we sailed from Callao. We are still 28º of longitude and about 8º of latitude from Queenstown and, what is worse, we are lying becalmed. Several very large black fish (though I have seen smaller whales) were playing close alongside today. We could not catch them or kill them, they being large enough to run away with the ship if we made a line fast to them.
Jan 1st 1867
Our hopes of being able to spend this day in port have been blighted. We are within a few day’s sail of Cork, but the sails are flapping lazily and we shall not get home in a year at this speed.
Jan 2nd 1867
At breakfast time today we got a breeze and managed to go 5 knots on our true course the whole day. I see the noble captain has written in the ship’s log “God grant all a happy and prosperous New Year”. The sacrilegious wretch – ten minutes after writing the entry he was threatening to jump the life out of one of the men and consigning to eternal Perdition the souls of two more of the crew.
Jan 3rd 1867
Heavy gale of wind blowing all day. Under close-reefed top sails. Two masts floated by us this morning. There was a tremendous sea running and it is not unlikely there has been “some of a blow” here recently.
Jan 4th 1867
What a wondrous change from yesterday. Not a breath of wind to speed us on our way.
Jan 5th 1867
At 2am commenced to blow and by 10am we were experiencing a most terrific gale. Ship under lower topsails and fore staysail and going 7½ knots. The decks continually flooded with water. A great quantity of huano coming through the pumps. The waves are really mountains high and the whole ocean around us has the appearance of a vast, seething, angry body. The wind (which fortunately allows us to go our course) carries with it a continuous shower of spray, drenching one to the skin in a few minutes.
Barometer 28º 9”.
Jan 6th 1867
Several more ships’ spars floated by today. Mr West resumed duty. Gale abated somewhat.
Jan 7th 1867
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| A ship in heavy seas off the Irish coast (Charles Ellms) |
Another furious gale. The Captain and Mate both agree in saying they never saw so severe an one. Ship under lower topsails and fore topmost staysail. At midnight the wind was rather lighter so we set reefed mainsail and spanker56.
Jan 8th 1867
At 7am the wind blew strong from N.W. and enabled us to steer our course after wearing ship57.
Jan 9th 1867
Strong breeze from N.W. all day. Position by observation yesterday was 48º 56” N latitude, 18º 34” W longitude. Course and distance to Cape Clear by 366 miles and to Queenstown ditto 426 miles [Cape Clear is on Clear Island which is 5km off the southernmost point of Ireland]. With any kind of favourable weather we may expect to get in this week surely.
Jan 10th 1867
Four years ago today since I landed in Vancouver Island. Oh! how they have been wasted. What lost time, energy and constitution I have to lament. Again I approach my native land poorer than when I left with so many golden anticipations. Alas! Youth has fled and with it the sanguine hopes so characteristic of that season of a lifetime. The world appears now as it is.
Jan 12th 1867
At 8am a small outward-bound Mexican brig passed close on our bow. We hoisted our 293854 but received no reply.
Jan 13th 1867
At 9am exchanged signals with an English Barque bound to the West Indies. Found their longitude to be 10º so we have only about 42 miles Easterly to make to Cork.
For the last 8 days we have had an incessant heavy sea running and the old barque ships so much water when rolling that we have been unable to pass fore and aft the decks without getting up to our waists in water. At this season of the year the water is not particularly warm and we have no means whatever of drying our clothes. This weather is particularly miserable. I have suffered more from cold and wet this week than I remember to have done in the whole course of my life.
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| Water on deck (Voyage Journal) |
From 6am to 8 or 9pm wading about in water and then called out every night to assist to “go about”, putting on cold, wet clothes and going on deck for an hour amid snow, hail, wind and rain. These things are anything but pleasant but there is no alternative. Not a murmur must escape my lips or I am cursed like a dog and spat upon like the earth. The poor cook has been most brutally and inhumanly used these last few days. He has been knocked down, kicked and struck with a capstan bar and other dangerous weapons – all unjustly and by the Captain who considers himself to be a gentleman and a Christian. No wonder we have such bad luck with winds. The Devil himself, in human shape, is our ruler.
Cape Clear: 51º 25” N latitude, 9º 29” W longitude.
Jan 15th 1867
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| The Fastnet Rock: the most southerly point of Ireland (Wikimedia) |
At 5am we sighted the Fastnet Rock off Cape Clear but, as the wind was Easterly and strong, we had no chance to beat in.
Jan 16th 1867
The Captain made a disturbance with the Sailmaker – calling him very offensive names, all of which the Sailmaker returned with interest. There was then a scuffle on deck and the Captain got his face well scratched. There was every prospect of a “general row” when the Skipper fetched his pistol on deck and, striking the Sailmaker in the face with the muzzle, pulled the trigger. Fortunately the cap did not explode and thus this bold, bad man was accidentally, and one might say, providently spared the consequences of the commission [i.e. committing] of murder. For it was evident that it was his intention to kill at least one man.
The sailmaker was afterwards put in iron and confined in a state room in the cabin and the Captain ordered him bread and water daily [the usual naval meaning of state room is a superior cabin so the words in the cabin are superfluous].
Jan 17th 1867
We are close to our port of destination but cannot beat in on account of the strong Easterly wind. We had a pretty severe snowstorm today, and with it came a number of small land birds. Doubtless they were blown from the land by the strong seaward breeze.
At 11.30pm sighted the light at Kinsale.
Jan 18th 1867
At 1 pm a Cork pilot boat came alongside and put a pilot aboard us. Oh! How pleased everybody aboard was to see a stranger on deck. One hundred and thirty one days and fifteen of us have looked upon each other ‘till every form and countenance aboard is stereotyped on the mind’s eye of every one of us.
Jan 19th 1867
The wind from the East, which has been delaying us so long, blew ‘till it became a heavy gale today, and the pilot put to sea.
Jan 20th 1867 (Sunday)
God! What a day this has been to us all. Everybody has trembled. The gale, we hope and pray, has reached its height. We are under close-reefed topsails. Three staysails blown away in an hour. The pumps manned continually day and night. The ship leaking badly. The sea mountainous high and the wind most terrific. It is with difficulty the two men at the wheel manage the helm.
Jan 21st 1867
The gale has not abated one jot and we are all really astonished to see the old barque stand it so bravely. God grant that she may weather it out.
Jan 22nd 1867
Wind this morning strong from the East but, thank God, the gale has passed. We find we have drifted a long way to S. W.
At 8am tacked ship and stood in towards Cape Clear.
At 4.30pm sighted land – but the pilot did not know what point it was. We were within a quarter of a mile of the land. The wind and tide against us at 5pm. When the captain saw little or no chance to save the ship. We were fast drifting on to the rocks when the men made for the boats.
The Captain ordered every man away and hardly had he done speaking when the wind suddenly hauled round and we were thus miraculously saved – for no boat could have been managed in such a sea under such adverse circumstances. I fervently and most sincerely thank God for this manifestation of His Providence and Mercy. I really believe that a ship never went to sea with 15 more wretched and sinful souls than we have aboard here.
Jan 23rd 1867
This should be a red-letter day in my calendar. 136 days out when, at 12noon sighted the old Kinsale Head. At 1.30pm passed Roche’s Point and, at 2.30pm, were safely at anchor in the harbour of Queenstown.
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| SS City of Washington (Official illustrated guide to the North-western railway) |
The SS “City of Washington” from New York had passed us in fine style this morning within about ¼ a mile of us. At 4pm the Pilot went ashore. I took the opportunity of sending ashore three letters to tell my friends of my arrival.
Jan 24th 1867
We are all glad to find no orders awaiting the ship for we are loath to go to sea in her again. Several of the chain plates are loose and the hold is in a dreadful condition – both sides and aft being completely chocked with water. The cargo is nearly all spoiled and we fear she will never pay her expenses. Several ships are discharging guano at Cork and we are all in hope that we may get orders for the same place.
The Captain thought proper to release the sailmaker today and he has resumed his duty.
What a splendid harbour this is! Indeed the Beauties of the “Cove of Cork” have long ago formed a subject worthy of the pen of a poet.
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| The Entrance to Cork Harbour. 1859 (The tourist's illustrated hand-book for Ireland) |
The shipping business here is very extensive – a great many vessels, both sail and steam, entering and leaving the port daily. The pretty little pilot and revenue cutters here command a great deal of admiration, their sailing qualities and general appearance are something really beautiful to look upon.
I have today seen what I have never saw in any port, namely women instead of men plying the business of “burn boats”. These daughters of Erin [Anglicisation of the Irish word Éirinn, loosely meaning Ireland] (though some of them look old and haggard enough to be mothers of the Country) climb up the ship’s side with all the agility of a sailor boy. They have done a pretty good stroke of business aboard here today.
The sailors forward are paying them most extravagant prices for very inferior goods. One or two of them have already spent nearly every penny due to them for the months of suffering and hardships they have undergone since we left Callao. They paid 45/- for a pair of boots for instance.
Jan 25th 1867
When the Captain came aboard today the crew assembled and told him they did not consider it safe to go to sea again in the ship and asked to see a magistrate in order to have a survey of the ship and cargo. Captain Doyle refused to grant their request and the men quietly resumed duty.
Jan 28th 1867
Received two letters from home, one informing me of the serious illness of my dear mother, the other one scattering at once to the winds the castles58 I have been building for five years. The prospect of a happy old age has become at once dark and gloomy and henceforth I cannot but regard women as false and unfaithful in all matters wherein affections are concerned.
Jan 31st 1867
Went ashore with Captain Doyle and received my discharge. Staid all night at the house of Mr O’Connor.
Feb 1st 1867
Went aboard the “Black Prince” and, at 2pm, left Queenstown in the steamer “Halcyon”.
Feb 2nd 1867
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The New Landing Stage, Liverpool and Victoria Station, Manchester (Official Illustrated Guide to the North-western Railway, 1859)
It was a five-minute walk from the station to Henry's home at 18, Cheetham Street |
Arrived in Liverpool at 6pm and took the 6.40pm train to Manchester. Arrived home at Cheetham St at 10pm after an absence of Four Years and Five Months a wiser if not better man.
Did Henry do well by getting away from Victoria as soon as he did?
One of the passengers who had sailed to Victoria on the Robert Lowe was Charles Monro. Unlike my great grandfather, he was still in British Columbia a year after the ship arrived. But, as shown by a letter to his mother he had not enjoyed his time there.
The letter appeared in several newspapers including the Kentish Chronicle, the Gravesend Reporter, North Kent and South Essex Advertiser, the London Evening Standard, the Glasgow Morning Journal and the Glasgow Saturday Post and Paisley and Renfrewshire Reformer. In the cases of the Kentish Chronicle and the Gravesend Reporter there was a short introductory passage by a Mr Macdonald of the Royal Exchange, London, who was the person who had submitted the letter. Mr Macdonald wrote that:
Your publishing in your journal the subjoined the letter from the nephew of a friend of mine in the India office would not only be obliging to me as verifying my book on “British Columbia and Vancouver’s island” to the letter, but the kindness to the poor emigrating population of this country as warning them from being over-sanguine in those remote regions as a suitable [place] of settlement.
Within the last 12 months scores of letters have been offered to me for publication, which, however, I declined, because I was not certain of the position of the writer. In this case I know Mr Munro to be an energetic, courageous, and plucky fellow, who would not be out of employment for an hour if he could help it, and who certainly would not “fold up his hands and stall rather than put his hands to any honest work”.
The book referred to British Columbia and the Vancouver's Island, by Duncan George Forbes Macdonald is of interest on its own account.
The letter follows:
Victoria, Vancouver's Island, Feb 4th, 1864
My dear Mother,
At last I begin my long-wished-for letter, for such I know it is to you. I daresay you have not been able to account for my long silence, but I have been knocking about so much here that I have hardly had time. I have been living in the bush, working as a farm labourer for six months past. I have also been to Gold Stream diggings. Since I have been here I have done everything to get a living – at times half-starving, at times plenty; at one time I was two days and a half without grub.
When I first arrived, on the 10th of January, 1863, it was mid-winter – snow several feet deep on the ground, and no work to be had for love or money. In fact, the place was quite played out, and by the time I had used my money I was in a pretty hard fix.
The first job I got was from Bishop Hill, who gave me some work on his land. The next was driving a waggon at a soda water manufactory. The next digging ground for a nigger – the next minding and grooming horses for a Yankee, the next as a day labourer, the next selling seeds on commission, then working at the ' mines,' and making nothing of course, as is always the case with ' outsiders’. One finds a little ‘pay dirt,' and the country is 'marked out' directly for ten miles or so, and a chap gets no change.
I have been poll clerk here once at an election. Sometimes there are plenty of dollars, at others there are none. Now 1 cannot get anything to do, and I am pretty hard-up. I know not what to do next. The country is nothing like what some people in the old country represent it to be. A fellow goes to Cariboo, has to pack grub and blankets on his back (601b. or 701b.), and has to tramp 600 miles over a very rough country. When he gets there, there is no work; no gold on the surface. He has to pay 6s per lb. for flour, and 4s for bacon, and that is all the stuff he gets. Besides he has to put up with wild Indians, bears, wolves, and such wild things. There is nothing but murders up country. The people are Indians, Yankees, Niggers, Chinamen, Australians, Californians, Mexicans, Chileans, and of every European nation, besides Kanakas or Sandwich Islanders.
The voyage out took about four months round the Horn. We passed within sight of Madeira, Brazil, Patagonia, Oregon, and Washington territories, and we had some severe weather. The ship's galley caught fire once on deck, and raised an alarm – you can guess, with fifty females on board. The Robert Lowe was a fine vessel, doing her sixteen knots in a stiff breeze, with nothing but topsails on, close-reefed.
Well, as I cannot get on here, I shall go down to California, Peru, or Chili, or perhaps to New Zealand or Australia. Here you see fellows who have been officers in the army, or gentlemen of some position in England, working in rags at navvies' work, dressed in old cord pants, top boots, 'jumper,' and broad-brimmed felt hat. I shall stop till I hear from you, and if you will send me the means, I'll bolt from this miserable God-forsaken place.
I have always lived either in a tent, log-house, or lumber shanty. Wages are very poor here – it is no country without capital. If you have that you can make money. It is an awful country for colds – a great swamp in winter, and summer, it is nothing but rock, swamp, and forest. There is no farming ground hardly – all grain and vegetables come from Oregon and California, two of the finest farming countries in the world, much cheaper than they can be grown here. I don't know a soul here, nor have I ever met any fellow townsman. There are about thirty men to one woman in this place. I have a bad cold on my chest now for four days, and don't know when to get rid of it, &c.
I remain, &c,
Charles Edward Monro.
London Evening Standard, 30/04/1864