Life and Adventures 1776-1801 (10 page)

Rio de Janeiro—Portuguese
Seamen—Lisbon—Author Arrives in
London—Visits Sarah’s Parents—
Enters a Vessel Bound for China—
Anecdote.

W
HEN WE SAILED
we had two booms over our stern, and a net made fast to them filled with pumpkins, melons and other vegetables, the gift of these kind Spaniards. We stood direct for Rio de Janeiro, where Captain Shiels intended to remain for some time as he had completed his cargo so soon. He would have lost the bounty had he arrived before the time specified in the act of parliament.

There were a great number of Portuguese vessels lying at Rio de Janeiro at this time. No accounts had been received from Lisbon for six months, and it was believed the French had taken Portugal. I counted every day we remained as so much of my time lost, and wearied very much. At length a ship arrived from Lisbon and all the Portuguese prepared to sail. The governor’s linguist came on board the
Amelia
and requested, as a personal favour, that Captain Shiels would allow four of his men to go on board the Commodore to assist in the voyage home, as it would be a winter’s passage.

I immediately volunteered. I hoped by this means to reach England sooner and obtain more money for Sarah, as I would receive a full share of the
Amelia
in England the same as if I had continued in her. Had I know the delays, the fatigue and vexations I was to endure from these execrable superstitious Portuguese sailors, I never would have left the
Amelia
for any reward the Commodore could have given me—and he was very kind to us. He knew our value, and his whole reliance was upon us. We were to work the ship, and
fight the ship should an enemy lay us alongside. He had been forty years trading between Lisbon and Rio de Janeiro, and in all that time never had made a winter’s voyage.

The Portuguese are the worst sailors in the world in rough or cold weather, and we had plenty of both, but worse than all we had a black fellow of a priest on board to whom the crew paid more attention than the captain. He was for ever ringing his bell for mass and sprinkling holy water upon the men. Whenever it blew harder than ordinary they were sure to run to the quarterdeck to the black priest. We were almost foundered at one time by this unseamanlike conduct. The whole crew ran to the quarterdeck, kneeling down, resigned to their fate, the priest sprinkling holy water most profusely upon them, while we four Englishmen were left to steer the vessel and hand the sails. It required two of the four to steer, so that there were only two to hand the sails. The consequence was she broached to. William Mercer and I ran and cut the foregeers, and allowed the yard to swing. At the same time, the captain, mate and boatswain hauled in the forebrace and she righted in a moment. Had her commons not been very high, she must have filled while she lay upon her beam ends. The sea was all over her deck round the hatch, but so soon as she righted and we were going to make sail the Portuguese left their priest and lent us a hand.

We were wrought almost to death and never could have made out the voyage had we not been well fed
and the captain given us plenty of liquor. The black priest rung his bell at his stated time whatever we were doing, and the Portuguese would run to their berths for their crosses. Often the main tack was left half hauled aboard at the sound of his bell, and the vessel left to drift leeward until prayers were over. As two men could do nothing to the sail when the wind was fresh, after prayers they would return and begin bawling and hauling, calling upon their saints as if they would come to assist.

We were thus almost driven to distraction by them and could scarce keep off our hands from boxing their ears. Many a hearty curse they and their saints got. Then they would run to the captain or priest and make complaint that the Englishmen had cursed Saint Antonio or some other of the saints. I often wondered the captain did not confine the priest to his cabin in foul weather, as he was sure to be busiest then. When they complained, the captain took our part and overawed the Portuguese, or I really believe they would have thrown us overboard. They often looked at us as if they could have eat us without salt, and told us to our face we were ‘star pork’, that is, all the same as swine—that we knew nothing of God or the saints.

I showed them my Bible and the names of the saints. They were quite surprised. Had I made another voyage I would have made converts of many of them. I was bald headed and they called me an English padre. Often the bell rang while we were at dinner. They inquired why I would not go to mass. ‘I mess
with the Coussinero,’ I replied.
⁶³
They began to think I had the best religion. They seemed to think the foul weather was all upon our account, and the virgin and saints sent it because they employed heretics on board.

We had a supercargo on board as passenger, who had made his fortune in the slave trade and was returning home to Portugal. He took unwell and died. At his funeral there were the following manoeuvres gone through. Everyone had a candle in his hand, and all stood in a double line upon the deck. There were even lanthorns hung over the ship’s side to light him to the bottom. The body was carried along the double line, the priest chanting, and every one touched him before he was thrown overboard. The captain requested us to do as the others did. Says Will Mercer, ‘Captain, I will throw him overboard for you, if you please.’

At length, after a tedious voyage of three months, I got out of this vile crew. When we reached the Tagus the Portuguese began to quarrel and knock us about.
⁶⁴
We stood our ground the best way we could until the captain got five of them sent on shore under a guard of soldiers. We remained at the captain’s house until we got our wages. The owners gave us a doubloon a piece over and above our agreement for saving the ship, as the captain did us every justice to the owners at the time, saying, ‘If the English were as
careful of their souls as they are of their bodies, they would be the best people in the world.’

I had many conversations with the captain concerning the ignorance of the Portuguese people in general, and asked why the priest did not inform them better. He said, ‘Were we to inform them they would soon turn the priest about his business and rise against the government. They must only get knowledge little by little.’

We assisted at a religious ceremony before we came away, at the special request of our kind friend the captain. The foresail that was set when she broached to was given as an offering to the church, as the black priest told them it was through it they were saved. Although the worst sailor in the world knew it was the sail that would have sunk us, they dared not contradict the priest. The whole ship’s crew carried it through the streets of Lisbon upon handkerchiefs to the church where it was placed upon the altar with much mummery. We came away and left them but the owners of the vessel bought back the sail again, after the priests had blessed it to their minds, as the church had more use for money than foresails.

William Mercer and I entered on board a brig bound for London, which was to sail in a few days, during which time we rambled about through the filthy streets of Lisbon. The higher orders of the Portuguese are very kind and civil. I was too late one evening to get on board the brig. A Portuguese merchant noticed my perplexity, for it is no pleasing thing
to have a lodging to seek in Lisbon at a latish hour. Without my requesting him, he took me to his own house, gave me an excellent supper and bed. Had I been a gentleman of his acquaintance he could not have been kinder or paid me more attention. He ordered his servant to call me at any hour in the morning I chose.

As war was now looked for we were afraid for the press.
⁶⁵
The Portuguese captain, at our request, got each of us a protection from the British consul at Lisbon. With a joyful heart I set sail for London to look out for an Indiaman that I might get to Bombay and inquire for Sarah, for she was still the idol of all my affections. At this time I was all anxiety to reach England. I often hoped she had reached her father’s house and there was pining at my absence. I used for days to flatter myself with these dreams.

When we arrived at Gravesend a man-of-war’s boat came on board to press any Englishmen there might be on board. William and I did not choose to trust to our protections now that we were in the river. So we stowed ourselves away among some bags of cotton where we were almost smothered but could hear every word that was said. The captain told the lieutenant he had no more hands than he saw, and they were all Portuguese. The lieutenant was not very particular, and left the brig without making much search.

When the boat left the vessel we crept from our hiding hole, and not long after a custom-house officer came on board. When we cast anchor, as I had a suit of long clothes in my chest that I had provided, should I have been so fortunate as have found Sarah at Port Jackson, to dash away with her a bit on shore, I put them on immediately and gave the custom-house officer half a guinea for the loan of his cocked hat and powdered wig. The long gilt-headed cane was included in the bargain.

I got a waterman to put me on shore. I am confident my own father, had he been alive, could not have known me with my cane in my hand, cocked hat and bushy wig. I inquired at the waterman the way to the inn where the coach set out from for London; I at the same time knew as well as him. I passed for a passenger. At the inn I called for a pint of wine, pens and ink, and was busy writing any nonsense that came in my head until the coach set off. All these precautions were necessary. Had the waterman suspected me to be a sailor he would have informed the press-gang in one minute. The waiters at the inn would have done the same.

By these precautions I arrived safe in London but did not go down to Wapping until next day, where I took up my old lodgings, still in my disguise. My landlord went on board and brought on shore my bedding and chest. I left them under his charge while I went to Lincoln to Sarah’s parents where I made every inquiry—but they knew not so much of her as I did
myself. The last information they had obtained was from the letter I had put in the post office for them before I sailed in the
Amelia.

I immediately returned to London where, to my disappointment, I found there was not a berth to be got in any of the Indiamen who were for Bombay direct. They were all full. I then, as my next best, went to be engaged as cooper on board the
Nottingham
for China direct, depending on providence if we were ever to meet again. To find some way to effect my purpose, my landlord took me to be impressed. He got the six guineas allowed the bringer, which he returned to me. He was from Inverness, as honest a man as ever lived. I had always boarded in his house when in London.

A curious scene happened at my entry. There were a few more impressed on the same day, one an old tar. When asked by Captain Rogers, in his examination, how they hauled the main tack aboard, he replied, ‘I can’t tell, your honour, but I can show.’ He clapped his foot into Captain Rogers’ pocket, at the same instant leaped on his shoulders, tore his coat to the skirts, saying, ‘Thus we haul it aboard.’

Captain Barefoot of the
Nottingham
and the other captains laughed heartily, as well as Rogers, who said rather peevishly, ‘You might have shown, without tearing my coat.’

‘How could I, your honour?’ was the reply.
⁶⁶

Arrival at the Cape of Good Hope—
Singular Incident—Java—
Wampoa—Chinese Artificers—
Music—Returns to England, and is
Impressed—Leith Roads—Mutiny—
Storm at Sea.

I
THUS AGAIN
set off as cooper of the
Nottingham
in 1793. Nothing worthy of notice happened. As I have gone over the same voyage before I will not detain the reader, but one circumstance that I witnessed off the Cape of Good Hope I cannot avoid mentioning as a dreadful example of what man will dare, and the perils he will encounter, to free himself from a situation he dislikes.

A man-of-war had been washing her gratings when the India fleet hove in sight. (They are washed by being lowered overboard and allowed to float astern.) Four or five men had slipped down upon them, cut them adrift and were thus voluntarily committed to the vast Atlantic without a bit of biscuit or a drop of water or any means of guiding the gratings they were floating upon in the hope of being picked up by some vessel. They held out their arms to us and supplicated in the wildest manner to be taken on board.

The captain would not. The
Nottingham
was a fast sailing ship and the first in the fleet. He said, ‘I will not. Some of the stern ships will pick them up.’ While he spoke these unfortunate and desponding fellow creatures lessened to our view, while their cries rung in our ears. I hope some of the stern ships picked them up. Few things I have seen are more strongly impressed upon my memory than the despairing looks and frantic gestures of these victims in quest of liberty. Next morning the frigate they had left came alongside of us and inquired if we had seen them. The captain gave an indirect answer to their inquiries, as well he might.

When we arrived at Java and anchored at Batavia I made every inquiry for a country ship, and would have left the
Nottingham
in a moment had there been one.
⁶⁷
All my money was concealed upon my person for a start. I thought of falling sick and remaining until a country ship came, but I might really have become what I feigned in this European’s grave, as I must have remained in the hospital. Had I walked about the city in health, the Dutch would soon have kidnapped me. I was thus once more baffled.

Indeed, I must confess, I did not feel the same anguish now I had endured before. It was now four years since I had left her in the colony, and her leaving it so soon, without waiting for me, showed she cared less about me than I cared for her. Not to write to her parents I had often thought very neglectful of her. I made up my mind not to leave the
Nottingham
at such risks, but to return in her to England and settle, as I had now some cash and had seen all I could see, and just make one more call at her friends in Lincoln, in my way to Scotland, and be ruled by the information I there obtained.

We sailed for Wampoa, where I was kindly received by my Chinese friends. I now paid more attention and saw things without the glare of novelty and have no cause to alter anything I said before. I had always, while at home, thought them the best tradesmen and most ingenious of people. I am
inclined to think they have been overrated in regard to their abilities. Some things they do very neat, but considering the things they have to do them with it is no wonder. I mean their varnishes and colours, native productions.

Let the following facts that I can vouch for speak for themselves. In my own line they are unable to make any article with two ends, such as barrels. They have only reached the length of a tub. These they dool, that is pin with bamboos, the joints of the staves as well as the bottom. When a cask that comes from Europe is to be broached they cannot even bore and place the crane on it. A foreign cooper must go on shore and do it. Many a half dollar I have got for this service myself from the Chinese merchants.

I do not believe they can make a nail with a head. Many thousand of their nails I have had through my hands, and never saw one with a head upon it such as we have in England. Their nails are either sprigs or simply bent like a crow’s toe. They are the worst smiths of any people, and can do nothing with a bar of iron if thick. I and the other coopers always kept the cuttings of our hoops which they bought with avidity—but larger pieces they would scarce take from us.

A vessel, the
Argyll,
while we were there in the
King George,
had lost her rudder in the voyage out and could not sail without a new one. There was not a smith in Canton who could forge the ironwork. The captain of the ship applied to the armourer of the
King
George
who took it in hand and in three weeks gained one hundred dollars by the job.

They appear to me to be excellent copiers, but not inventors. One of our officers sat for a painter to draw his picture and told the Chinese not to make him ugly. ‘How can make other than is?’ was the reply. He had no idea of altering a single feature to add to the looks of the object he was painting. All was a slavish copy of what was before his eyes. If you want anything made out of the common they must have one of the same as a pattern or they will not take it in hand. And what is further proof of their want of invention is, when you see one house you have seen every house of the same rank, or any other articles of their manufacture you have seen all. There is scarcely any variety and you need give yourself no trouble looking for others if the price pleases.

There is no change of fashion: the oldest articles you can fall in with are the same make and fashion as the newest, and a traveller who visited the country two hundred years ago could know no difference but in the men. They would be new, the old having died; the present race, I may say, wearing their dress and inhabiting their houses without the least change in the general appearance.

The only instrument of music I saw was a bagpipe, like the small Lowland pipe, on which they play well. Their gongs cannot be called a musical instrument. When John Tuck, the deputy emperor, appears (he is called so by the seamen on account of his having a
gallows on board the grand boat which is as large as a seventy-four-gun ship and crowded with attendants), his band consists only of bagpipes. Their gongs are only used that I heard to make
tchin, tchin
to Joss in bad weather and at their paper sacrifices; and every vessel, down to the smallest sampan, has a Joss on board.

The deputy emperor comes once every year to view the fleet and pay his respects to the commodore. It is the grandest sight upon the river. Not so much as a sampan is allowed to move. He makes a present to every ship in the fleet of bullocks, wine, schamsee and flour. The officers start the schamsee overboard—it is a pernicious liquor distilled from rice. The flour is so coarse it is given to the hogs.

They measure every ship and can tell to a quarter chest how much she will hold. The first American sloop that came, she having only one mast, the Chinamen said, ‘Hey, yaw, what fashion? How can measure ship with one mast?’—they having been accustomed to measure ships with more masts than one. They measure between the masts the breadth and depth of the ship.

I went up the river to the Dutch Folly, a fort lying waste opposite Canton in the middle of the river. The Dutch pretended they wished to build an hospital for their sick and got leave to do so, but their design was discovered by the bursting of a large barrel full of shot, and the Chinese put a stop to their undertaking, which now lies waste.

The Chinese sell all their fish, frogs, rats and hogs alive, and all by weight. Their frogs are bred and fed by them and are the largest I ever saw. When we bought our sea stock the hogs came on board in the baskets in which they were weighed.

The Chinese women are seldom seen in the streets. They walk very ill, and their gowns sweep the ground. Their hair is very prettily done up in the form of a crown on the top of their heads and fastened with a large gold or silver pin. The Tartar women are to be met at every step.

The cargo being complete, we fell down the river using our old precaution to keep off the Chinese chop-officers, and they retired with the same exclamation, ‘Hey, yaw, what fashion? Too much baubry. Too much baubry.’

Nothing uncommon happened until we reached the Downs. I had allowed my beard to grow long and myself to be very dirty to be as unlikely as possible when the man-of-war boats came on board to press the crew. As we expected, they came. I was in the hold, sorting among the water casks, and escaped. They took every hand that would answer. I rejoiced in my escape but my joy was of short duration. One of the men they had taken had a sore leg. The boat brought him back—and I had the bad luck to be taken and he was left. Thus were all my schemes blown into the air.

I found myself in a situation I could not leave, a bondage that had been imposed upon me against my
will, and no hopes of relief until the end of the war—not that I disliked it, but I had now become weary of wandering for a time and longed to see Scotland again. My heart always pointed to my native land. Remonstrance and complaint were equally vain.

I therefore made up my mind to it, and was as happy as a man in blasted prospects can be. I was taken on board the
Venerable,
Admiral Duncan. She was the flagship and commanded by Captain Hope, now Admiral Hope. The
Venerable’s
boats had made a clean ship of the
Nottingham.
She was forced to be brought up the river by ticket-porters and old Greenwich men. Next morning sixty of us who had belonged to the
Nottingham
were turned over to the
Edgar,
seventy-four, Captain Sir Charles Henry Knowles. This was on the 11th June 1794. I was stationed in the gunner’s crew.

We went upon a cruise to the coast of Norway, then touched at Shetland for fresh provisions. Afterwards we sailed for Leith Roads. I now felt all the inconveniencies of my confinement. I was at home in sight of the place where I wished all my wanderings to cease. Captain Barefoot of the
Nottingham
had wrote to Sir C. H. Knowles in my behalf, and he was very kind to me. I asked leave to go on shore to see my friends which he consented to, but Lieutenant Collis would not allow me, saying ‘it was not safe to allow a pressed man to go on shore at his native place’.

Had I been allowed, I did not intend to leave the
Edgar.
I would not have run away for any money,
upon my kind captain’s account. My uncle came on board and saw me before we sailed, and I was visited by my other friends, which made me quite happy.

While we lay in Leith Roads, a mutiny broke out in the
Defiance,
seventy-four. The cause was, their captain gave them five-water grog; now the common thing is three-waters. The weather was cold. The spirit thus reduced was, as the mutineers called it, as thin as muslin and quite unfit to keep out the cold. No seaman could endure this in cold climates. Had they been in hot latitudes they would have been happy to get it thus for the sake of the water, but then they would not have got it.

The
Edgar
was ordered alongside the
Defiance
to engage her, if necessary, to bring her to order. We were saved this dreadful alternative by their returning to duty. She was manned principally by fishermen, stout resolute dogs. When bearing down upon her my heart felt so sad and heavy, not that I feared death or wounds, but to fight my brother, as it were. I do not believe the
Edgar’s
crew would have manned the guns. They thought the
Defiance
men were in the right, and had they engaged us heartily as we would have done a French seventy-four, we could have done no good, only blown each other out of the water, for the ships were of equal force; and if there were any odds the
Defiance
had it in point of crew. Had I received my discharge and one hundred guineas I could not have felt my heart lighter than I did when we returned to our anchorage. And the gloom immediately vanished from every face in the ship.

We shortly after sailed on a cruise in the north seas and encountered a dreadful gale on the 17th October. I never was in such danger in all my life. The
Edgar
was only newly put in commission, and her rigging was new and not properly seasoned. We in a few hours carried away our bowsprit and foremast in this dreadful night, then our mizen and main topmast. With great difficulty we cut them clear. Soon after our mainmast loosened in the step, and we every moment expected it to go through her bottom. Then no exertion could have saved us from destruction. The carpenter, by good fortune, got it secured.

We lost all our anchors and cables in our attempts to bring her to, save one. At length it moderated a little, when we rigged jury masts and made for the Humber where we brought to with our only remaining anchor—when the
Inflexible,
Captain Savage, hove in sight and took us in tow. When in this situation the coasters, as they passed, called to the
Inflexible,
‘What prize have you got in tow?’ A fresh gale sprung up and the
Inflexible
was forced to cast us off.

The weather moderated again and we proceeded up the Swain the best way we could into Blackstakes, Chatham. My berth during the storm, as one of the gunner’s crew, was in charge of the powder on deck we used in firing our guns of distress. The ship rolled so much we were often upon our beam ends, and rolled a number of our guns overboard. We were forced to start all our beer and water to lighten the ship, but we rode it out, contrary to our expectation,
and were shortly after turned over, captain and all, to the
Goliah,
seventy-four guns, and sailed to join Sir John Jervis in the blockade of Toulon. We boarded a Spanish ship and found on board thirty Austrian prisoners. They every man entered with us as marines.