CHAPTER IV.
There is no lovelier spot in the world than Mauritius, nor can any other land boast of mountain scenery more sublime or picturesque; but it seemed to us while we remained there that the heat vied in fierceness with that which we had experienced at Loando, although it was by no means as balefully withering in its influence. We were told, however, that the summer heat would not attain its full force until the months of January and February; and this, together with the burning atmosphere, and the alarming nearness of the hurricane season,—to say nothing of the prevalence of the cholera at Port Louis,—inclined us to bid a cheerful farewell to the island.
We had already passed the citadel and bell-buoy, and, having discharged our pilot, were watching the fast receding shores, when we met the English mail-steamer from Point de Galle, in the island of Ceylon. We saluted each other, and then learned—what was given to us as reliable news—that war had been declared between America and some other power, but the name of the nation with which our Government had come in collision, our officers, from some defect in the signal, could not interpret. This created, at first, some painful doubts and misgivings; but the belief finally gained ground that so long as the Southern Rebellion remained unquelled the United States would not embroil herself in a foreign war, unless it was forced upon her by the most imperious necessity.
The weather continued quiet and the sea was still undisturbed, although for three or four days after leaving Port Louis there were times when dark, lurid, and portentous clouds hung heavily upon the horizon and floated over us, and one evening there was also a dead calm, when everything excepting the glass indicated a coming tempest; but we steamed out of its neighborhood before it burst upon us, and all breathed more freely when getting ten or twelve degrees north of Mauritius, for we were then tolerably certain of a safe and quiet voyage. Some months afterwards we learned that we had not miscalculated in regard to the coming of the cyclones, or wind-storms, but that, in a few days after we had sailed through that region, it was visited by one of these terrible hurricanes.
We weighed anchor at the harbor of Port Louis on the afternoon of the 27th of December, and on the morning of the 30th, at eleven o’clock, our wheels had completed one million of revolutions since leaving New York. On the 2d of January we passed the Chagos Archipelago, the largest island of which group (Diego Garcia) belongs to England. It is fourteen miles long and eight in width, and is of coral formation, having a fine harbor, in the form of a crescent, setting into the island like the cavity of a shell. Good water is found by digging eight feet. It is covered with cocoanut-trees, and the Mauritians inhabit it mainly to engage in the cocoanut-oil manufacture.
Day after day, while in the Southern Indian Ocean, the mercury rose nearly to 100° in our cabin, and the sea was as placid as a river; but after passing the Chagos Islands, the heat, at one time, sensibly decreased to about 85°, making a delightful change. Again we crossed the equator, and steering for the northwest point of the island of Sumatra, on the morning of the 9th we had sighted her verdant shores, and were making for the Surat Pass. This narrow passage, which Hosburgh says “is called by the natives Selat Anoos, is formed between the east end of Stony Island and Acheen Head. It is about one hundred and fifty yards wide, with twelve or fourteen fathoms of water. The passage itself is not more than one hundred yards in width, and owing to the strong eddies on each side of its entrance, it is not very safe without a commanding breeze, excepting when the tide is just turning.”
The day on which we made the passage was one of those perfect ones when the blue ether above us was of the same clear and deep color as that through which the stars floated at night, and the brilliant sunlight fell with soft and gentle sheen upon land and water. Entering from the west, Acheen Head, a high, verdant slope, looms up to the right; but after making the Straits of Malacca on its northeast side, it is a steep and rough cliff-land. Pulo[4] Chin-chin rises to the left, and her mountain-sides and fertile land skirting the shore were covered with evergreens, and cocoanut-groves. Acheen Head, as we sailed through the Pass, towered high above all; and its sides being superbly dressed with rank grass, tropical trees, shrubs and vines, among which were nestled the picturesque huts of the Malays, presented a most charming appearance. At one point we sailed so near as to enable us to count the overhanging trees, and were seized with an involuntary desire to attempt reaching the vines that hung trailing over the water. We had seen much of the beautiful, the wildly grand, and the sublime in scenery during our voyage, but nothing comparable in attractive loveliness to that which met our eyes as we entered the Surat Pass and sailed into the Straits of Malacca. This was the crowning glory of all,—“a thing of beauty, and a joy forever.”
The shoal water on the left, as we entered the Strait, was dotted with the little fishing-boats of the natives, which are something like a canoe in shape, and while fishing are made secure and stationary by being fastened at stem and stern, in clusters of five or six. Hosburgh remarks that “if the fishing canoes are not seen out at this place before seven or eight o’clock in the morning, a fresh breeze may be expected during the day.” Little sail-boats were also gliding in every direction, constructed with a narrow framework about their gunwales, which served as a balance to prevent them from being capsized if struck by a sudden squall of wind.
On rounding Acheen Head we passed the mouth of a river bearing the same name, two miles from whose outlet, in the interior, is the town of Acheen, where there is a Mahommedan chief, and a daily market is held between two and three o’clock in the afternoon, at which eggs, fowls, and fruits can be procured, and if a day’s notice be given, ships can also get bullocks and goats. A little beyond the mouth of the Acheen River there is an anchorage for vessels; and three ships, two English and one Turkish, were lying there as we passed. Pepper, which is the chief article of produce, is obtained in large quantities in traffic with the natives.
Coasting for two days along the shores of this beautiful island, we occasionally had an excellent view of a native village, situated in what seemed to be a fine grazing country or well-cultivated fields. Doubtless the apparent cultivation was mostly wild, tropical luxuriance; for nature in every phase was attractive and lovely as seen from our stand-point; but where every man carries a savage knife, called a creese, at his girdle, and is not to be trusted if any temptation comes in his way, distance not only “lends enchantment to the view,” but also produces a feeling of decided security, which, under the circumstances, cannot for a moment admit of wishing for a nearer acquaintance.
Great care and skill are necessary in navigating this strait, on account of the dangerous shoals and numerous small rocky islands which are met with in making the passage. Fortunately, however, we had moonlight nights, and Captain Briggs, fully equal to every emergency, never shirked any of his duties or responsibilities, but night after night remained upon deck directing the soundings, which were made with extreme caution as we proceeded through the channel. During one of those nights we passed a very extensive and dangerous shoal, on which, not long before, a steamer had struck and been wrecked. There was formerly no light upon, or near it, but sometime before our passage a vessel was moored near the shoal, which displays a light every night as a beacon to mariners.
We caught our first glimpse of the continent of Asia on the morning of the 11th of January, and during the day kept our eyes almost constantly turned towards those extensive countries, between India and China, where, an old writer tells us, “Ptolemy places his man-eaters, and Mandevylle found men without heads, who saw and spoke through holes in their breasts.” In the afternoon we were off the city of Malacca, which presented, upon the depressed or flat coast, an extended line of low buildings, with a high flag-staff near the water, from which we were signalled. There was quite a show of shipping in the harbor, and a lofty mountain range loomed in the distance; while beyond lay the Central Flowery Kingdom to which our steps were hastening.
Those fortunate ones who never leave Fatherland with the prospect of living abroad, can know little of the emotions with which one approaches, and looks upon the strange country that is to be his home for years, perhaps for life; then, the blood and thoughts flow quickly, and however cool one’s nature, for the time quietude and repose vanish.
We arrived at Singapore in the morning of January 12, 1862, after having navigated for several hours through the intricacies of an archipelago of small rocky islets. We heard the heaving of the lead during most of the night; and this, together with the fact that the steamer had been put at half speed, caused some of the more wakeful of our passengers to be on the qui vive until the morning appeared, and we were safely at our moorings.
Singapore has a very fine and commodious harbor, which is in the form of a crescent; and the town is built partly on, and partly at the foot of a chain of hills, that rise with picturesque effect a little back from the shore. The most conspicuous of these hills is surmounted by a fort, and occupied by the Government buildings; and on the others are the finely built bungalow residences of the foreigners. The business quarter of the place is near the water, and a substantial stone wall skirts the shore, at about the centre of which there is another strong fortification, mounted with heavy guns, that, pointing towards, sweep the bay with a decidedly noli me tangere aspect. To the right of this fort, and following the shore, there is a fine drive and promenade, called the Bund, where foreigners, at early morning and evening, walk and drive to enjoy the cool sea-breeze. At the time of our visit there was a great deal of shipping in port, and an extraordinary multitude of boats were moving in every direction. Here we met, for the first time, with Eastern boat-life,—the Chinese boatmen being very numerous, and living, according to the custom of their country, in their own boats.
We had scarcely reached our moorings in the harbor when the water teemed with Oriental life, and we were surrounded with boats of nearly every Eastern nation, filled with motley groups of all shapes, sizes, and colors, who made the air resonant with the clatter of their various tongues. These people were all engaged either in selling fruit or small wares, and were earnestly ejaculating and begging of us to buy,—some even presenting themselves on board with recommendations for the purpose of “doing” our laundry. The East Indians are a most interesting people; and Ramasamy,[5] our Dubash,—i. e. interpreter,—a man who furnished supplies for our ship,—was a fine specimen of the race, with a quiet, unperturbed, and dignified mien, which is characteristic of the people.
Coming from the fierce summer heat of Mauritius, and the Southern Indian Ocean, some of our company were much debilitated, and to such the more moderate temperature of Singapore was gently, but delightfully bracing. We hoped, on getting into port, to find letters and news from home; but having travelled at so rapid a rate as to outstrip the overland mail, we found that no news had been received from the United States, excepting a vague rumor, by telegraph, of a threatened war with England, on account of the Mason-Slidell difficulty,—which report both the American and English residents at Singapore feared would be confirmed on the arrival of the mail-steamer, then hourly expected. This explained the purport of the news designed to be communicated to us by the steamer which we passed on leaving Mauritius, and which caused us at the time some little anxiety, not only on behalf of our country, but also on our own account. Had the report proved true, we should have been obliged to surrender our vessel into the hands of the English, on our arrival at Singapore; any attempt to escape to sea from under the guns of the fortifications being an act of folly, if not downright madness. But having faced unscathed the yellow-fever at St. Paul de Loando, the small-pox at Cape Town, and the cholera at the Mauritius, besides passing safely through the hurricane latitudes without even meeting with a severe squall, we were inclined to hope that the ominous cloud just rising in the western horizon would also disperse, and that no such thing as a serious collision would occur between the two countries. Trusting, therefore, that Providence would permit us to finish the remainder of our voyage unmolested, we decided to enjoy our stay at Singapore, and look after the “lions” as usual.
Our captain determining, if possible, to sail for Hong Kong before the arrival of the English mail-steamer, made greater despatch in coaling than it had been customary for him to do at any other port on our route, and our time, therefore, did not admit of a very thorough “doing,” either of the place or its environs. Rising, however, betimes on the following morning, we were sipping a cup of tea and eating a biscuit while on our way to town in one of Ramasamy’s covered boats. Near the landing, according to arrangement, the Dubash had a Malay garee—a small coach, or cab-like vehicle, drawn by a little Malay pony—awaiting us. The carriage was built and finished with an eye to tropical comfort,—the cushions of the seats being covered with a fine and cool fabric made of the Manilla grass; and between the body of the carriage and the top there was an open space, of one or two inches, left for ventilation. Our Malay syce, or driver, was neatly dressed, after the fashion of his caste, with a turban and upper garments of pure white; and pending from both the upper and lower lobes of his ears were gold rings, set either with emerald or an excellent imitation of that precious stone. Sometimes he rode, but more frequently ran beside his horse, urging the animal on, and looking the picturesque to perfection.
We first took the public drive upon the Bund, which is a beautiful, broad, and well-made macadamized road, having an enclosed public ground on the left, where the sight of a rich growth of grass gladdened our eyes and reminded us of home, it being the most verdant turf we had seen since leaving the United States. The hill-sides of Singapore are green and beautiful with grass, which is doubtless owing to the rains that, we were told, visited the place nearly every day. The town is built over a large surface, and the cultivation of trees, shrubs, and flowers, in the large grounds surrounding the bungalow residences, receives so much attention that the place seems as much like the country as the city, with all the advantages of both.
On the Bund, a little beyond the public grounds, there are three spacious bungalows standing near each other, which are used as a hotel, and kept in the European style for the convenience of foreigners. We passed, during our drive on the Bund, European ladies and gentlemen on foot, and on horseback, nearly all of whom were looking thin and pale, showing how difficult it was for Western exotics to thrive in the East. We drove through the Malay and Chinese quarters of the town, where the bay has so much of a curve that the Chinese boatmen safely moor their little floating cabins for the night, and at that early hour found them occupied in eating or preparing their morning meal. We also visited the market, and saw the Chinese gardeners, just in from the country, briskly trotting along with their panniers so heavily laden with fruits and vegetables that their shoulder-pieces of flexible bamboo vibrated at every step. There was also the native cart, drawn by buffalo-oxen, which reminded us of Sunday-school days, when, in the Rev. Dr. Barnes’s “Notes on the Gospels,” we first saw a picture of the same sort of vehicle. The harness and whole establishment looked the same as that said to be used in the Holy Land in the days of our Saviour. There were the same contrivances, the same kind of cart, and the same manner of arranging the yoke and the oxen, which, taken together with the driver, made the old picture in loco, and assured us, far stronger than our feelings could do, that we were far away from home. In the vicinity of the market we passed a cluster of Malay huts, which were built in the bungalow-style, over a salt marsh, and supported by stilts, or piles, with thatched roofs of plantain-leaves.
In the course of our drive we took the circuit of the hill on which are situated the bungalow houses of the foreigners, and around which winds a fine macadamized road. They were bordered with shrubs, flowers, and tropical trees,—the cocoanut-palm, the nutmeg-tree, bearing its beautiful pendant fruit, the bread-fruit-tree, the graceful bamboo, and many others. In the grass, also, by the road-side, we observed mimosas of exquisite tints. We took in our way the Christian Cemetery, the Episcopal Cathedral, and Police Station-house, with its wicked-looking and treacherous-eyed Sepoy sentinels, in full British uniforms, and had a profound Oriental salaam from an overseer of a gang of hard-looking convicts, comprising Malays, Chinese, and Indians, who were at work on the road.
The town is supplied with spring water, which is brought from the hills; and the neatly constructed circular stone fountains, in well shaded and picturesque situations, are much frequented. They are seen to much the best advantage in the early morning, when the bronzed, and grotesquely-dressed groups of people around them give one a good idea of Oriental fountains. But the picture presented by the native washermen and women, on the banks of the Singapore River, was, if possible, still more unique and remarkable. The little stream was fairly alive with them; and our Western ideas of care, economy, and thrift were outraged, as we saw them thrash the stones with the garments they were cleansing, so that we were ready to exclaim,—What fabrics can live through such mauling!
Having “done” the town as thoroughly as our limited time would permit, we drove to the bank of the Singapore River, not far from the Bund, where our boat had been ordered to wait for us; and, on passing from our carriage to the wharf, met two grand-looking Parsees, one of whom was a priest, who wore his peculiarly striking costume with a bearing more suggestive of hauteur than it is possible for words to describe. Once more seated in our boat we sailed along the business wharves, on which were large warehouses, or go-downs, as they are called in the East; and, passing through the mouth of the river into the bay, were soon again on board ship, much delighted with our excursion, besides having appetites sharp-set for breakfast.
Most of our missionary party left us at this port; three of whom[6] were to proceed to Calcutta, en route to Northern India, and two to Bankok, where they were to be stationed. We parted from them with the kindest wishes for their future usefulness, and months afterwards were happy to hear of their being safely settled in their respective fields of labor.
Some of the most delicious fruits in the world are grown at Singapore. At the Cape we procured very nice oranges, apricots, and pears, but were too early in the season for their excellent grapes. At Mauritius the luscious mango and appetizing lichi were in their prime; but here two or three different kinds of oranges were ripe, among which was the delicate mandarin; and the pine-apples, freshly cut from the plants, were abundant and in full-grown perfection. Here, also, we first met with the dainty mangosteen, which is superior to all the fruits of the East; being of such delicacy and exquisite flavor that it is said some one, on first partaking of it, declared it must be the nectar of the gods. The mango of Mauritius is a large and beautiful fruit, having a color on one side like the blush of a peach, and, with those obtained at Manilla, are said to be as fine as any in the East.
On the afternoon of January 14th, just as we were getting up steam to leave for Hong Kong, the guns of the English mail-steamer were heard, and she was soon sailing into the harbor. We acknowledge to having been a little anxious on her arrival, but it was soon ascertained that she brought no confirmation of the rumors which had reached us. She announced, however, the news of the death of Prince Albert, at the receipt of which not only the English, but the foreign residents generally, seemed much saddened, as well they might be, in sympathy for the widowed queen; regretting that he who truly magnified his high position, and was a blessing to his kind, had so suddenly passed away. Our colors were among the first seen floating at half-mast for the illustrious dead; and with this sign of our respectful regard and sympathy, at five o’clock in the afternoon, we sailed out of the bay, and into the Straits of Singapore, feeling truly thankful that actual war had not thrown us into the hands of our affectionate English cousins. Ramasamy was the last to leave our ship. As we moved off he took his stand in the centre of his boat, and while making his graceful salaams, his tall and dignified figure, neatly arrayed in white and set off with a red sash and turban, made up, together with his Eastern boat and boat’s crew, a fine picture.
The northeast monsoon, a wind that blows down the China Sea from October to April, had been unusually severe during the winter, and while lying in the harbor of Singapore we were much of the time in motion, on account of the swell produced by the tempestuous state of the sea at the North. It was also reported that the previous mail-steamer from Singapore to Hong Kong had been lost; and altogether we had the prospect of a rough passage before us, and a severe handling from old Boreas for all the quiet seas and sunny skies which had thus far accompanied us. To say that we dreaded the passage to Hong Kong would convey but little idea of the fears experienced by timid travellers when compelled to meet such emergencies. There is great enjoyment to such delicately constituted people in a quiet sea, and a fair breeze; but let the reverse happen and the change is fearful, nay, we might say well-nigh appalling, but for the thought that our heavenly Father can protect us as well in the hour of peril as in times of safety. There is no place where the awful grandeur of God’s power is so strikingly manifested as at sea, and no perils like those of the great deep can so humble the heart, or make one feel more thoroughly bereft of all available earthly aid. The same eye, however, that had watched over us in our days of calm and sunshine, slumbered not when the tempest overtook us, but, following us to the end, we finally were landed in safety at the desired haven.
In a few hours we had threaded the Straits of Singapore, and were on the China Sea facing the monsoon. For two days it was not as rough as we had expected it would be; but after that, the wind increased to such a degree of violence that it became necessary to take down our top-masts. Still our vessel rode the waves like a duck, and notwithstanding both wind and current were against us, she labored so little in the sea that our feeling of security became proportionably stronger, and we felt both hopeful and confident.
When in about the ninth degree of north latitude, we passed the Condore Islands. One of the largest of this group belongs to the French, who have a small colony on the island; and on the western side there is a very good bay, where a man-of-war was lying at anchor for the protection of the little settlement. The French Government have selected the island for a coal depot, although the English formerly held possession of it, and some forty years ago had a garrison stationed there. This, however, was finally destroyed by the Malays, who fell upon it and put the soldiers to the sword.
On the night of the 17th of January the stiff breeze which had been blowing ever since we left Singapore culminated into a fearful gale, and the next day (Saturday) was one full of anxiety to all on board. It was not deemed advisable to apply more steam-power to the machinery, and the force against us was so tremendous that for twenty-four hours,—during which time the gale seemed to do its worst,—the same amount of steam which had usually propelled us at the rate of two hundred miles per day, advanced us only at the rate of ninety-three miles. The sky assumed the dull, metallic blue shade which usually characterizes it at sea during a fierce gale of wind, and our vessel was in some danger from the short and heavy waves that lashed her sides most furiously.
Being unwilling to remain below we sought a dry place on the quarter-deck, where, facing the stern, we quietly watched the storm. There was little conversation; but once during the day, our friend, Mr. S——, coming from the bow of the ship,—the scene at which point was too much for our weak courage to face,—sat down near us, and for some time cruelly whistled the air of “Home, sweet home!” while he kept time with his fingers upon the woodwork of one of the skylights on the quarter-deck. I could not trust myself to say a word by way of remonstrance, knowing that his thoughts were busy with the wife and little ones he had left in his own happy home; but was glad when he ceased, and hope never again to hear that sweet melody under the pressure of such painful apprehensions.
Thanks to a kind Providence, the wind fell at about midnight of Saturday; and on Sunday morning—having still one of our missionary clergymen on board—we assembled as usual for religious services, and gratefully rendered thanks for our merciful preservation.
A few hours after the worst of the gale had abated we made Cape Padaran; passing which we found more quiet waters, and were soon near that shore where
“Cochin China’s cultivated land ascends.”
During the remainder of the day we were sailing within three quarters of a mile of the bold, rocky coast, which is lined with high mountains, sometimes running in two parallel coast ranges, then three, and at one time I counted four distinct tiers rising one back of the other. In form and slope they reminded me of the Green Mountains of Vermont, and were entirely different from any we had seen during the voyage. The verdure of their sides was of a deep green; and the shade cast by the clouds that rested upon them, giving their surfaces a still darker hue, made their appearance a remarkable combination of the grand, the gloomy, and the picturesque. We were now passing localities that were formerly infested with Malay pirates; and were told that even now any vessel which is so unfortunate as to be lost on the coast is soon surrounded by the same piratical, grasping, and treacherous race.
The bracing and deliciously cool atmosphere of the northeast monsoon had a grateful effect upon all on board our vessel, and was delightful after the many weeks of depressing heat that we had endured. After leaving the coast of Cochin China the weather became more favorable, and we moved onward with more rapidity, until, on the morning of the 23d of January, after threading our way among the small islands in the neighborhood of Hong Kong, we sighted Victoria Peak, and, firing our guns as we sailed around its base, entered the harbor.
Before the Poyang had reached her anchorage we were boarded by two gentlemen belonging to the house of Olyphant & Co., who, surprised and delighted with our safe and speedy passage, welcomed Captain Briggs with great warmth, while they complimented him on having made the quickest voyage on record. At 12 o’clock we were moored before the city of Victoria, after having been at sea only eighty-six days, seventeen of which were passed in the ports where we touched for coals.