A fortnight ago, Urquiza and the allied army of thirty thousand, crossed the Parana without opposition; and, invading the province of Buenos Ayres, advanced within twenty miles of the city. It is now a week since Rosas, leaving Palermo at the head of twenty thousand soldiers, took the field in person, to oppose his further progress. It is said that previous to the march, Doña Manuelita, attired in a riding-dress of scarlet velvet embroidered with gold, and splendidly mounted, reviewed the troops; and, like Queen Elizabeth on the approach of the Spanish Armada, delivered to them an animated and inspiriting address.
A crisis, it is evident, is not far distant; and all is intense expectation. The universal impression is, that Rosas must fall. It is believed that there is treachery around him. An advance guard, in command of Pachecho, one of his best generals, has been defeated under circumstances which leads to the belief that, like Oribe at Montevideo, this officer had a secret understanding with Urquiza; and that the issue at Buenos Ayres will speedily be the same as that which occurred here four months ago—the triumph of Urquiza, through the desertion to him of the opposing soldiery.
This state of affairs led Mr. Schenck and Commodore McKeever, with Secretary G——, to proceed at once to Buenos Ayres. Captain Taylor of the marines was of the party, a company from the guard of the Congress under his command having, with Lieut. Holmes, been ordered to Buenos Ayres by the Commodore for the protection of American citizens and their property, in case of the overthrow of the existing power. As the crew are to have general liberty on shore here, during the passing fortnight—a time when my vocation for good seems to be suspended, and which, both on shipboard and on shore, is to me ever one of trial—I was urged much to accompany the party. Two reasons, however, forbade this—one, the still precarious state of a lad, who, the day we entered the river, fell from a height of ninety-six feet to the deck, without being killed outright; and the other, an engagement to officiate at the marriage of Dr. W——, one of the assistant surgeons of the Congress, to my friend, G—— H——, a daughter of the American Consul. This is appointed for the 5th of February, till when, at least, I must remain at Montevideo.
I have been twice only on shore—once with Captain Pearson, to accompany him in an official call; and again, one afternoon for a short walk. I had not intended being away from the ship more than an hour; but, shortly after attempting to return, when not a half mile from the shore, a furious tempest came rushing upon us. There was no alternative but to return to the landing before it. It was so sudden and so violent, that before the boat could well be secured within the mole by the crew, the whole bay was in a foam, and a heavy sea rolling over it. It was impossible to communicate with the ship the next day; and the following night was still more tempestuous. The hotels of the city afford but indifferent accommodations; and I availed myself in the detention of the ever free hospitality of Mr. F——. I improved the opportunity, too, by calling on the various families of the British Church before I should meet them again at the services of the chapel on the Sabbath. The last day, however, was taken up wholly in reading with absorbing and affecting interest, a manuscript loaned me by Mr. Lafone, and recently received by him from Terra del Fuego. I mentioned, under a date at Rio six months or nine ago, the arrival there of H. B. M. ship Dido, on her way to the Pacific, with orders from the admiralty to visit Terra del Fuego and the adjacent small islands, in search of a company of missionaries who had gone from England the year previous, but from whom nothing had been heard. A schooner chartered by Mr. Lafone, and sent by him about that time with the same object, anticipated the errand of the man-of-war, with melancholy result. The whole party, consisting of Captain Gardiner of the Royal Navy, Mr. Williams, a physician, Mr. Maidenant, a catechist, and four boatmen, perished from hunger and exposure, in the inclemency of the last winter there. The graves of some were found, and the unburied bodies of the rest. Among the effects is the full journal of Mr. Williams, from the time of his departure from England, till within a few days, as is supposed, of the death of the whole.[[3]]
[3]. See Memoir of Richard Williams, published by the Messrs. Carter.
Their object was the conversion and civilization of the poor degraded savages of those dreary and forbidding regions. Though Captain Gardiner, the projector and leader of the enterprise, had navigated the waters of Cape Horn, and become familiar with the region while on service in the navy, he was ignorant of the language of the natives, and was without an interpreter. Failing to establish friendly relations with the brutish people, the whole party became impressed with the idea, either with or without sufficient cause, that their lives were in jeopardy from them; and, abandoning the shore, in a great measure, they took to the water in frail and ill-appointed boats. In these they fled from bay to bay, and from islet to islet, till worn out with fatigue and exhausted from want of food, they fell victims to sickness, starvation, and death. Mr. Williams, to whose journal the remark I first made refers, abandoned, at very short notice, a handsome practice in his profession, a choice circle of friends, and a happy home in England, for the enterprise of philanthropy in which he so soon perished. From the record he has left it is evident that he was a deeply experienced and devout Christian: simple-minded, frank, and pure in heart. In this faithful diary, every thought and feeling of his inmost soul seems fully unbosomed. His faith never failed him, under the most afflictive and dispiriting trials; and his soul continued to be triumphantly joyous amidst the most grievous destitution and suffering of the body. I read the details of the journal as penned in the original manuscript by such a man with intense interest; and came off to the ship, deeply impressed in mind and heart, with the sadness of the tragedy which put an end to the record.