ST. HELENA.
We came very near this deeply interesting spot which for several years held the attention of the world. We could appreciate the saying of the notable prisoner there, who spoke of himself as “chained to this rock;” for the island impresses you as a huge rock. Very few isolated places seem to have more connection with the world; for twenty-five vessels on an average each day pass by it, showing their signals, to be reported. To begin and speak of the place, and the thoughts and feelings which it suggested, would not be expected. We could not go ashore without first entering the ship and paying port duties; but we had a full view of “Longwood,” where Napoleon lived, and where he met death.
We resolved to go on board a British man-of-war which we should pass not far off. On lowering the largest boat into the water, the seams proved to have opened, and she soon filled. The gig which we used all summer in going ashore at Hong Kong was more seaworthy; so we set off in her for the man-of-war. We took four men to row and one to bail, which he had to do nimbly, the water gaining on him, obliging the stroke-oar to lend him a hand. By keeping our feet on a level with the rail, we managed to reach the “Rattlesnake” without being wet, though we discussed the question whether a handkerchief at half mast on an oar would be likely to be seen, if we were swamped. We went and returned safely, having received from the ship the news of the French and Prussian war, three months old, and having also received of a New Bedford whaler some vegetables, which we tried in vain to pay for. The midshipmen of the “Rattlesnake” said that they were attracted by a noble American vessel which entered the harbor that morning, and they asked if we could tell them her name. After listening to their description, we, with becoming diffidence, informed them that it was the Golden Fleece.