Spanish Town, to which there is a good road from Kingston, is situated on the unhealthy banks of the Cobre, and is perhaps one of the hottest ovens under the sun. Its chief importance is derived from the circumstance of the government house being there, and of its being the head quarters of a regiment. The 92nd Highlanders were stationed in the barracks at that time.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Early in February, at Kingston, I embarked in the brig Vittoria, Captain Ferrier, and, soon after, the vessel dropped down to the anchorage at Port Royal. Just before we got under way, a transport arrived from England, having on board a detachment for the garrison, consisting of drafts from the 50th and 58th depôts, under the command of Captain Mason of the former corps; the other officers were Lieut. Crofton and Assistant Surgeon Young of the 50th and Lieut. Skinner of the 58th. Wishing them all happiness, I returned to my own ship, which immediately put to sea. On the 4th we were off the Island of Cuba, and passed the Grand Caymans at midnight. The weather was fine and the wind blowing fresh from the eastward. We made cape Antonio, the western extremity of Cuba, and in the course of the day stood away to the northward, in order to clear the Colorado shoals on the N.W. of the Cape. While sailing through the Gulf of Mexico, the sun was extremely hot, and very little wind stirring. We caught two small sharks with the line and hook, and having some slices fried for dinner, found them very tough, as well as strong and unsavoury to the taste.
A fine pleasant breeze springing up, we steered in shore, making the northern coast of Cuba, and about noon, the day being remarkably clear, the hills of that island were distinctly seen at the distance of twenty miles.
The wind becoming easterly on the 12th, we continued beating about the Mexican sea, and between the southern extremity of the North American coast and the east end of Cuba. Towards evening we were off the Havannah, and in view of the fortress and castle of the Moro, protecting the entrance into the harbour. Assisted by a strong current we passed a considerable distance to the eastward of the Havannah, and, as the current was running three and four knots, aided by a smart S.E. breeze, we hoped to clear the Florida passage in a few days. Before we got within the influence of the Gulf stream, we were hailed by a strange sail to leeward, which fired a few shots to bring us to. She immediately sent a boat, manned with some desperate looking villains, for the purpose of rummaging the ship. Having obtained all that they required, among which was a portion of our fresh stock, the suspicious visitor bore away to the westward. She proved to be an independent cruizer, named the Confidante of Buenos Ayres, and was one of the insurgent privateers by which those seas were infested. Fortunately, a heavy swell and threatening change of wind coming on, were the means of causing the pirate to sheer off suddenly, otherwise, we might not have escaped on such easy terms from his clutches.
With a fine spanking breeze at S.E. we were rapidly sailing through the Gulf; the weather continued moderate, and the sea tolerably smooth. On the 15th we entered the narrowest part of the straits, about sixteen miles from the shores of the Bahamas.
February the 16th and 17th, clearing the Gulf, we launched into the Great Western ocean, and underwent a series of desperate weather, attended with squalls and rain. The wind being right astern, our little brig was in the utmost danger of getting pooped by the heavy rolling sea, which was driving us along. The dead lights were stove in as fast as they were secured, and the decks were washed from stem to stern. In this way, at the rate of between eight and ten knots, we were scudding under close-reefed topsails. On the 18th and 19th, there was no improvement whatever in the state of things, although the wind was still blowing in a favorable direction. We were at this time in the latitude of Charleston, North Carolina.
Matters continued much in the same state till the 27th, when, at midnight, the dark and stormy appearances of the sky gave indubitable indications of an approaching hurricane from the Northwest. At three in the morning, while running at six knots, the ship suddenly broached to, the foretopsail was torn off the yard arm, and, soon after, the main topsail and jib were literally rent like brown paper, flying in ribbons about the masts.
The whistling noise through the rigging, together with the rattling of blocks and sheets, was really dismal, and the gale kept encreasing with such fury as had never been witnessed by the oldest mariner on board. The sun had set, on the preceding evening, with all those direful omens which are the well known forerunners of bad weather, while the black and lowering clouds, banked up in wild and broken masses, foretold its continuance.
Daylight, so anxiously looked out for, disclosed to our view the horrors by which we were surrounded. The tempest had by this time gained a degree of violence that can be conceived only by such as have voyaged in those latitudes, and at its mercy our poor weather-beaten ship, labouring and struggling against its fury, was allowed, (or rather forced), to drift considerably off her course, in consequence of the helm being dismantled and unmanageable. With elastic bound she rose on the top of each successive wave, then fell as nobly into the furrows, seeming as if despair had given her strength, while the waters with dreadful noise rushed past her quivering sides, and with their accumulated weight occasionally broke upon the decks, sweeping off bulwarks, boats, and every timber on the gangways; while all her masts, yards and spars aloft, bent and strained beneath the fearful blast that howled in dismal gusts around. The sea, agitated into white and boiling foam, was running mountains high, and its angry surface presented a most desolate and wintry aspect.