who shared my state-room. The Empire City is the “ne plus ultra” of steamers, and Captain Wilson worthy to command her. She is almost a world in size, furnished with the greatest magnificence, her bill of fare comprising the luxuries of all climates. The Steamers Alabama from New Orleans, and Falcon from New York, came in, in the afterpart of the day.
25th. The dust by the Oregon has just arrived from Panama, and as soon as it is on board we shall up anchor. There are $1,600,000, besides what is in the hands of passengers. Bungoes are coming off with passengers, and as it is blowing a gale, the steamer rolls tremendously, making it almost impossible for passengers to board her. The greatest dexterity is required, for, after reaching the steps, one is in imminent danger of being swept off by the next sea. Ladies were drawn up in chairs, as were also the invalids. In the afterpart of the day, I had the extreme pleasure of assisting on board my friend E. W. Clark, jr., I had left him in his berth on board the Everett, in a very feeble state; but the tropical fruits had operated upon his system like magic, and he had become able to cross the Isthmus on horseback. He eventually recovered, and was restored to his friends. Mr. Lewis came on board also. He had lost the use of one of his legs, and was borne across on a litter. One of our fellow passengers on the Everett was less fortunate; he lived two days after coming to anchor, when he expired and was taken on shore at Panama, and buried.
26th. The British Steamer, Severn, has just come to anchor, also the Cherokee from New York. At 3 P.M., the Alabama moved off in the direction of New Orleans, crowded with passengers. The smoke is beginning to loom up from our chimney, our quarter boats are hauled up; soon the windlass draws our anchor from its bed, and our steamer raises her head, and makes her first leap for home. We passed the Cherokee and received three hearty cheers, then the Falcon, then the Severn, and were soon on our course, in the direction of Kingston, Jamaica. Chagres is situated in lat. 9°, 21´, long. 8°, 4´. We were now fairly launched, homeward bound; the waves of the Caribbean sea fleeing from us, as if fearful of being drawn into the vortex of our wheel. I remained on deck until a late hour; we had a fresh breeze and heavy sea; the moon was almost full, and playing the coquette, now hiding her face, and now casting upon us one of her most bewitching smiles.
27th. (Sunday). It is one year this morning since I took leave of home and sailed for California. During my absence, I have passed through what has cost many a life, and once almost felt the last pulsation. But now I am in a fair way of being restored to my friends, in improved condition and health. I have not heard one word from home in six months; my anxiety can better be imagined than expressed. I can only hope they are alive. By observation at 12 M., we are 420 miles from Kingston, the only port we shall make on our passage home.
28th. Still a strong wind and heavy sea. We are running under fore sails and fore staysail. By observation at 12 M., we had run 174 miles in twenty-four hours.
29th. Still a heavy sea on, and a stiff breeze. We are under a full press of canvas, running eight knots. 11 A.M., in sight of land. We soon make the highlands, and are running for Port Royal. We have a pilot already on board, he having accompanied our steamer to Chagres. Port Royal is situated on a low island in the mouth of a small bay, upon the head of which Kingston is situated. We passed an armed brig, a steamer-of-war, seventy-four gun ship, revenue-cutter, all displaying the red cross of St. George. A four-oared boat comes off towards us; our wheels are turned back, and we are boarded by an officer in full uniform. After the usual inspection, our wheels again revolved, and we moved on up the bay, or river, in the direction of Kingston. After running a mile, the above-mentioned officer is astonished at learning that our steamer is under weigh; he came forward and wished to be put on shore—stupid fellow. We are standing inland, with high mountains on our right, capped with clouds. We now pass fortifications, and bearing to the right; our pilot sings out “steady!” we are now within full view of Kingston, and heading directly for the town; “steady!” “port!” steamer falls off, bringing the town on our larboard bow—“hard a port!” on we steam—“steady!” We are now passing a large fortification; we see houses nestling in orange groves on the side of the mountain. The town is so densely shaded with cocoa-nut and other tropical trees, that it is barely visible. We are drawing very near, the inhabitants are crowding to the shore. Our pilot sings out, “let go the anchor,” the wheels are reversed, and we are warping around to the dock, which is crowded with natives as black as Erebus. Our plank is soon out, and our steamer belches forth her cargo of Californians, who, in profusion of beard and hideousness of aspect, would, no doubt, have compared favorably with those earlier adventurers under Columbus, who had the honor of landing here in advance of us. We found the inhabitants extremely attentive, particularly those who had goods to sell, and they were principally Jews. We were followed by these insinuating individuals, and kindly informed that by going a half mile we could buy anything we wanted. We were at a loss to know whether we were really in want, but were very kindly informed that we were in want of everything. Oh! Chatham street, how thou hast been defamed! Certainly, Kingston instead of Chatham street, is the Jewdom of the world.
I had a note of introduction from Mr. Moreau, whom I met at Gorgona, to his family at Kingston. I am not prepared to say that I was in a presentable condition. As near as memory serves me, I had on a gay colored “poncho,” a slouched hat and long boots, saying nothing about the whiskers and moustache. I found an accomplished daughter, who was a good English scholar and fine pianist, and a mother who spoke nothing but French. My stay was short, but under other circumstances I should have wished a prolongation.
Many of the passengers visited General Santa Anna, whose villa was one mile from Kingston. He was living in great splendor, and was found extremely affable, speaking the English language fluently. Kingston is a town of considerable extent, the streets running at right angles, well-shaded; numerous churches and schools; the buildings generally of brick, built low to prevent disasters from hurricanes. The inhabitants are generally instructed in the rudiments of an English education, and are quite intelligent, but all complain of poverty. The island produces fruit in abundance, it hardly commands a price, excepting on the arrival of a steamer, when it is higher than in almost any market in the world. The natives have taken valuable lessons from the Jews, and appear to have acquired their peculiar business habits with the greatest facility. One of them
had a quantity of shells, for which he demanded $25, but immediately fell $20, and I think would have taken two.
During the afternoon the Cherokee came in and commenced coaling up. This delicate duty is performed by the colored girls of the place, and the modus operandi is as novel as it is laborious. Some fifty girls are engaged, each with a vessel resembling a half barrel, holding sixty pounds of coal; this, when filled, is placed upon the head and carried up the gang-plank to the deck. As laborious as this duty may seem, it is performed with the greatest alacrity, accompanied by songs, dancing, and peals of laughter. (See Plate). The belle of the party, luxuriating in the name of “Flouncy,” is seen on the deck, dressed in a pink muslin, flounced almost to the waist. She is in the act of taking one of those extraordinary steps for which the colored population are justly celebrated. The mate seems to have taken in charge a small specimen of humanity who pertinaciously insists upon coming on board to sell parrots. He is now receiving a “dose of sprouts,” and will go off, no doubt, with a pair of stogys vividly impressed upon his imagination. A colored gentleman is seen laying against the wheel house counting the tubs as they are borne along by the “Bloomer”-clad girls; near him stands an individual who looks very like a returning Californian. A party of ladies and gentlemen are promenading the upper deck. Cocoa-nut trees with fruit are seen, with a range of mountains in the background. Boats with fruit, cactus, shells, parrots, &c., are being rowed about to tempt the passengers.