On viewing the place, while passing it the next morning, I could not discover a particle of bone larger than a man's finger-nail left.
The Cholera raged in New Orleans to a frightful degree for some months after; the average number of deaths in the city was two hundred per day for several weeks.
Soon after this I made a trip in a little schooner to St. Marks, and a small port called Magnolia, in West Florida, and then returned to the city, where I remained about two months, when I found employment as a mate on board of a brig called the Commodore Barry, bound to New-York, where I was to receive my wages and be discharged. We performed our passage home without meeting with any occurrence worth recording.
New Orleans is one of the most immoral cities I ever visited. All kinds of amusement are indulged in on Sundays: most of the military companies, both foot and horse, are assembled on that day in a public square in front of the Mayor's office and drilled. The Sabbath is the day elected for sham fights. The piazzas of the largest hotels are filled with bands of musicians, playing enchanting tunes to attract customers. The doors of billiard rooms are thrown open to public view, and large sums of money are often bet on the games. Strolling negro musicians are found playing on their banjoes and tamborines at the corners of the streets. On Sunday evenings, circuses, play-houses and gambling rooms, attract a large collection of people.
CHAPTER XXVII.
Schooner Horizon.
Having lost all my property except a small homestead, by the many captures I had experienced, the perils of the sea, and the fluctuations of prices in the West India produce, and being now out of employment, and looking upon every man as slothful who remained idle when he could earn a competence by working for less wages then he formerly received, I agreed with a young inexperienced captain to perform a voyage with him in a small schooner of seventy tons, called the Horizon, from New-York to the Island of Teneriffe. My name was entered on the shipping articles as mate, although it was verbally understood that I was to be considered as the navigator and sailing master.
We commenced loading about the first of January, 1835, with staves and a few other articles, and went to sea about the eighth, the vessel being deeply loaded, which made her wet and uncomfortable for a winter's voyage. We proceeded on the passage without any material accident until we arrived in the latitude of Teneriffe, when we were overtaken by a violent gale of wind, which lasted nearly two days; we shipped a number of seas, which cleared our decks of staves, carried away our bulwarks, broke our bowsprit, and sprung the head of our fore-mast; rendering the schooner totally unmanageable. The next day the wind abated, and the sea became more moderate, when we made all the repairs that our scant materials would admit of, and in the afternoon discovered the high Peak of Teneriffe. Finding our water running low, having had our last cask stove during the gale, we agreed to come upon an allowance of one bottle of water for each man per day. The weather became mild, with light variable winds, which rendered the vessel quite unmanageable, as we had no head sail to keep her before the wind in light breezes. With longing eyes we viewed the majestic pyramid for fourteen days, the wind remaining the same during all that time, when we approached so near the harbor of Oratava that we were boarded by a pilot who conducted us into that port. Our schooner's cables being only about forty fathoms long, would not reach the bottom in that harbor, and we were obliged to hire a cable and anchor to ride by during our stay in port.
While lying here it is necessary to keep a pilot constantly on board, that we may be ready to proceed to sea the moment the wind changes so as to blow towards the land. After we had remained in the harbor some four or five days, and procured carpenters to repair our vessel, a gale of wind commenced, and we were compelled to slip our cable and go to sea again, where we remained about two days, when we put into the Island of Palmos, at which place we continued three or four days. After the gale abated we returned to our former anchorage in Oratava harbor.
The harbor of Oratava is surrounded by high rocks, almost perpendicular, faced with sharp points, which makes it impossible to ascend them. When vessels are wrecked in this place they are very soon dashed to pieces, and their crews meet a watery grave. The anchorage is situated about twelve miles from the foot of the Peak, where the weather is so mild that sailors are working on board vessels with no clothing except shirts and trowsers, while the Peak is covered with snow. Our pilot informed me that snow fell on the Peak every month in the year except March. The snow, from the appearance, forms a body of ice, and the brilliant rays of the sun at its rising are reflected on this ice-capped mountain with such dazzling light that the beholder is struck with awe as he surveys this mighty wonder of the world. I had but one opportunity to visit the shore, where I remained but a few moments while signing a protest. My short stay prevents my giving the reader any description of the place.