Upon coming on deck this morning I was struck with the soft picturesque beauty of the hills, as shone upon by the morning sun lighting up the tops and sides, and throwing the valleys and ravines into shade. At night I am lulled by the roar of the sea upon the beach. It is delightful to sniff the fragrance of the land as it comes off to us upon the dew-laden wings of the softest of breezes. My fellows on shore looked rueful and woe-begone—nature had no charms for them—there was no liquor to be had! If I were to remain here long, I should send them on shore as a punishment.
Friday, February 12th.—This is the Mahommedan Sabbath, but they do not keep it so grimly as the Puritans. We had a number of visitors on board, and among others, several princes, cousins-german of the Sultan, one of them being the Commander-in-Chief of the army. He gave me an account of the affair of the Dale. Some years ago two Yankee whalers came in. One of them obtained provisions to the amount of two hundred and fifty dollars, telling the people he was too poor to pay for them in money, but that he would give them a bill on the Consul at Zanzibar. To this they assented; the skipper then ran off with his ship in the night, without giving the bill. They seized the other Captain and took him on shore, to keep him as a hostage while his ship should go in pursuit of the runaway and get the promised bill. But they thought better of it in a few hours, and released him. The Dale came the next season and demanded twenty-five thousand dollars, threatening to burn the town if the money was not paid. They could not pay them, there being probably not so much money in the island. The Yankees then set fire to one end of the town, cannonaded the fort, doing some damage, and withdrew. This is about the usual origin of Yankee shipmasters' complaints to their government. I made a present of a captured Yankee clock to each of the princes, and gave them a package of writing-paper. They seemed anxious to get some finery for their wives, but I told them we were not in that line, like Yankee whalers.
Saturday, February 13th.—Visited the town again to-day. Called at the houses of a couple of the princes, in which I found everything dirty, with an attempt at tawdry finery. A black houri was set to fan me. We were served with rose syrup. Walked to the prince's garden—a beautiful wilderness of cocoa and betel nuts, sweet orange and mango, with heterogeneous patches of rice, sweet potatoes and beans, and here and there a cotton plant. Two or three slave huts were dotted about, and walls of loose stones ran along crooked lanes and bye-ways. As we came off, some of the inhabitants were at evening prayer, and others preparing to take their evening meal. People met us everywhere with kindly greetings, and the Cadi, a venerable-looking old man, wished me a safe return to my own country.
Sunday, February 14th.—Visited in force again to-day by the princes, and other chief men. In the afternoon the high-priest visited me. He was a fine-looking man—Arab by descent—with a well-developed forehead, and easy, gentlemanly bearing. He wore a sword, and was evidently looked upon with great respect by his attendants. He expressed much sympathy with our cause, and said he would pray to Allah for our success. The Yankee whalers, he said, invariably stole some of their slaves. Said they could not do very well without the whalers, as they were the only traders to the island, and brought them many useful things.
Monday, February 15th.—Received on board some bullocks and fruit; paid our bills, and were taken leave of affectionately by the simple people. At meridian moved out of the anchorage under steam, amid the cheers, given in real English fashion, by the many boatmen that surrounded us.
CHAPTER XXXV.
"Man overboard!"—Blowing hard—Three Years—Wearing out—The Cape again—Seizure of the Tuscaloosa—Towards Europe—War News—What the Alabama effected—Case of the Rockingham—The last capture—The Tycoon—Nineteen overhauled—In the Channel—At Cherbourg.
From the middle to the 28th February there was but little excitement on board the Alabama. On that day the usual routine of life on a man-of-war was broken by the cry of "Man overboard." The vessel was at once hove to, but before a boat could be lowered a gallant fellow, Michael Mars, leapt overboard, and swimming to the rescue of his shipmate, fortunately succeeded in saving the man's life.
On the third of March they saw the first Cape Pigeon and Albatross, and on the 4th Captain Semmes writes as follows:—
The gale still continues, though moderating very fast; sea not so turbulent, though the surf is thundering into it now and then, and keeping the decks flooded. 'Tis three years to-day since I parted with my family in Washington, on the day in which Washington's great republic was humiliated by the inauguration as President of a vulgar democratic politician, in whom even the great events in which, by a singular destiny, he has been called to take a part, have not been able to sink the mountebank. These three years of anxiety, vigilance, exposure, and excitement, have made me an old man, and sapped my health, rendering repose necessary, if I would prolong my life. My ship is wearing out, too, as well as her commander, and will need a general overhauling by the time I can get her into dock. If my poor services be deemed of any importance in harassing and weakening the enemy, and thus contributing to the independence of my beloved South, I shall be amply rewarded.