Cambiaso’s orders—We set sail—Wood’s Bay—The old French ship—A drunken riot—The officer condemned—Garcia’s interference—Men deserted at Wood’s Bay—The Eliza Cornish left behind—Stormy weather—Sandy Bay again—The Indians—Cape Gregory—Interview with Cambiaso—His promises—Conversation with Mr. Dunn—My determination.
The 2d of January saw us all ready for sea, and early in the morning Cambiaso came on board. He called me into his state-room, and after renewing his threats, in case he saw any signs of my disobeying his orders, he gave me a written paper, on which were my directions for navigating the vessel. I opened it before him, thinking that if I saw the necessity of making any remarks about them, it would be better to do it at once. The paper directed me to go westward through the Straits to Cape Pillar; thence west-by-north 1-4 north to 82 deg. west longitude; then northerly to the latitude of the island of Marica; thence for that island, coming to anchor on the east side, and waiting for further orders. The Eliza Cornish was to follow the Florida, and at night both vessels were to display a signal lantern at mast head.
He remarked, when I had finished reading, that these were only my general directions; that I must look to him for more particular orders from day to day; and that while the vessels were within the Straits, he should often want to anchor at different points.
At about ten o’clock in the morning, a signal gun was fired from the Florida, and both vessels weighed anchor and got under way for the westward. We made but slow work and little progress, both vessels being somewhat out of repair from a month’s neglect, and the standing and running rigging being very much chafed and worn. On Saturday, the 3d, we reached Port Famine, and there were ordered to lay over till Monday morning, during which time the men were employed in getting in more wood and water, while I was fully occupied in stowing our numerous passengers more closely, and if possible, more comfortably. In this labor I received much assistance from Mr. Dunn and captain Avalos, whose situation I endeavored to render as comfortable as possible, and whose fare I supplied from my own mess.
Sunday evening, as I was standing on the deck, one of the men from the hold passed me with a bundle under his arm, and approaching the side of the vessel, was about to throw it over. I stopped him, asking what it was. He carelessly turned down the covering and showed me the body of a child who had been born the evening the colonists came on board, and who had died that morning. The brute, who I suppose was the father, had attached pieces of iron to the cloth which covered the poor little thing, to insure its sinking. I compelled him to go on shore and bury it, ordering him by my authority as captain of the ship. I took every occasion to exercise this authority, thinking it might be of advantage to me in the future. The mother died during our voyage.
We got under way again on Monday morning, and reached St. Nicholas Bay by the evening of the 6th. Here we lay over all night, and on Wednesday morning continued our course westward until Thursday afternoon, when we came in sight of Wood’s Bay, Cape Holland. Cambiaso sent for me as we neared the harbor, and informed me that he intended to lie in this anchorage for some time. His object was to get some liquor out of an old French ship which had been wrecked there some time ago, and which still lay with the greater part above water. We came to anchor in the evening, and the next morning the soldiers were sent on shore to unload the wreck, and rescue what liquor was still untouched by the water.
Some barrels and casks were brought out whole, and immediately transferred to the Florida; but many were stove in, either purposely or by accident, and then commenced a scene of drunken rioting and disorder which lasted for three or four days. Officers, men, sailors,—all were intoxicated; and Cambiaso and Garcia seemed to have as little control over them as I had. Indeed, the temptation sometimes proved too strong for Cambiaso himself; and Mr. Dunn, Garcia, and myself were almost the only men who preserved full possession of our senses.
I remember one case in which I used my authority as master of the ship somewhat rashly. The occupant of one of the state-rooms, the doctor of the colony under governor Gamero, and a Frenchman, had drank enough to make him noisily troublesome, both in the cabin and on deck. At last he went out on the jib-boom, hallooing and shouting. I called to him to come in, but finding he paid no attention to me, I sent the only seaman I had on board out after him. This proved equally unavailing, and, losing all patience, I sprang out myself, collared him, and thrust him into his state-room. I fully expected that he would complain of me to Cambiaso, and that I might have to suffer for my rash assumption of authority; but I never heard from him again.
By Sunday night the rioting seemed to have worn itself out, and the men, having slept off their intoxication, began to return to their duty. That night, however, Cambiaso was in a terrible humor, swearing at all around him, and giving most contradictory orders, which it was impossible to observe. One of his officers unluckily offended him by venturing to remonstrate, when Cambiaso in his half drunken passion, ordered him to be put in irons and sent on board the Eliza Cornish, accompanied by a file of soldiers, and at twelve at night to be tied to the mast and shot down. The men obeyed; but I noticed the muttered indignation of the other officers, and general Garcia, after Cambiaso had retired to the cabin, stepped forward to the officer under whose direction the removal was made, and who was to control the execution, and, under the plea that Cambiaso was under the influence of liquor and might alter his order, he gave the officer authority to delay the execution for an hour or two, or at least till he heard again from himself. I watched the countenance of the condemned man as he went towards the boat, but could read nothing on it but sturdy, obstinate defiance and indignation, until, just as he was leaving the deck, a woman’s scream was heard. It was his wife, who, occupied in the hold of the vessel, had heard nothing of what was going on until this moment, and now rushed on deck with her children hanging round her. The man’s face twitched as she flung herself into his arms, crying most piteously; but the soldiers quickly took her away from him, and hurried him on board the boat. I went up to the woman and endeavored to console her, by telling her of general Garcia’s interference, but between my broken Spanish and her sobs, I am afraid very little of what I said reached her mind.
Garcia had left the deck and gone to Cambiaso’s state-room, where he remained for about two hours, soothing Cambiaso and pleading for the officer’s life. At last he came out successful. A boat was sent to the Eliza Cornish, the officer brought back and restored to his wife. This and other humane actions of general Garcia, made much impression on me at the time, and inclined me to believe his assertions made afterwards, that he had only joined Cambiaso on compulsion, and from fear for his life.