CLXIV.
Island of San Miguel, Azores, June 8, 1860.
In my last I informed you that I was on the eve of leaving the Portuguese province of Angola, on the south-west of Africa. I expected to reach the Cape de Verde Island in time to catch the English steamer for Lisbon, but arrived two days too late.
We stopped at the town of Ambriz, in the Congo territory, now the seat of war between the Portuguese and the blacks, and found the residents in great consternation from the recent successes of the negroes. A war vessel had just arrived with fresh troops.
We then proceeded to the island of San Tomé, one of the volcanic group consisting of that, Prince’s and Fernando Po, which for fertility, magnificent mountain scenery, and beautiful tropical forests can scarcely be surpassed, producing the choicest coffee and fruits in abundance, but occupied mostly by the dark race, with small numbers of Portuguese colonists, the former indolent as usual unless force is exercised, and the latter lethargic from the oppressive heat and afflicted with fevers—otherwise, these islands might be considered perfect gems of the ocean.
On the ninth day we left San Tomé for Porto Praya, Cape de Verdes. Our complement of passengers had now reached fifteen, including one white lady. Our ship reminded me of Noah’s ark, as we had such a variety of animals and birds on board, either as supplies, or belonging to passengers bound to Portugal and carrying specimens of the brute creation occupying the countries they came from, not forgetting a few negro boys and girls, from six to seven years old, as presents to friends, which seem to be classed in the same category, as they cost from ten dollars to fifteen dollars each. For a voyage of twenty to thirty days in a large screw steamer of only fifty horse power, relying upon wind as well as steam, the auxiliary force being only four or five miles per hour, it was necessary to provide abundantly, and we had oxen, sheep, goats, chickens, turkeys and guinea fowls. The rigging and chain about the boats suspended on the sides were hung with green bananas to ripen, and vegetables of different kinds. A full supply of limes, oranges, and other tropical fruit was also laid in. A part of our upper deck or promenade was monopolized with bird cages containing hundreds of every color and variety. The main deck had its share of baboons, gazelles, monkeys, and parrots. It was a menagerie in itself, and it required at first strong nerves to accustom one’s self to the chattering, chirping, singing, and other vocal sounds of such a mixed tribe. Little by little they, like passengers at the outset of a voyage, got quieted down, and were rather a source of amusement than an annoyance.
I was fortunate in obtaining a large and airy cabin, or state-room, to myself, which made the long passage more supportable, as most of our passengers were suffering from debility on account of the climate, or from the effects of fever. I was still a martyr to the African boils, but recovered from them as soon as we reached cooler latitudes. One of our passengers, whom we took in at San Tomé, died before reaching here, and his remains were thrown overboard. It was the result of prostration caused by long residence in an enervating climate.
Our supplies of all kinds were abundant, but a bad Portuguese cook was a source of vexation to all; for in no position is the exercise of the culinary art more desirable than on shipboard, where travellers are deprived of their usual exercise, and the stomach and digestive organs are most sensitive.
Our passage to Porto Praya, one of the Cape de Verdes, was a fair one, say nineteen days, but a delay of five days, taking in coffee and sugar, caused me the loss of the English steamer, which would have taken me direct to Portugal in seven days. The disappointment was great, as the strong trade winds from the north-east were blowing, making a prospect of another twenty days’ sailing; it must be submitted to, however, as in these parts of the world we cannot choose our conveyance and embark when we please, as in the United States.
Porto Praya has hitherto been the naval station for the American cruisers; and although a small town, situated upon a high, arid bluff, with bleak and dreary mountains in the background, it has its redeeming qualities in fruitful palm, banana, and coffee groves in the valleys, which induced the American officers, after a long cruise in the scorching climate of the coast, to call it the paradise of the African station.