The privateer was, I think, fitted out from this island. The Captain is a Spaniard, a short man with a remarkable good face, that nobody would suspect to belong to such a gang. The Lieutenant is a Frenchman, a creole of St. Domingo, but called himself an Italian. The man they called Davis, who ordered me to be hanged, is the pilot or sailing master, and their boarding officer. He is an American, belongs to New-York, and was the worst man on board. He is a good looking fellow, something perhaps over the middle size, but the most brutal rascal I ever met. There was another American on board, only a common hand, being a drunkard.—Two negroes are all the residue of the gentlemen with whom I had much acquaintance.
The goods taken from us were upwards of fifty thousand dollars worth, and I have no doubt are landed on the coast of this Island. The neighborhood of Cuba will be troubled waters until our government shall seriously determine to put down this system of piracy.
Akin to this subject it may be proper to record an incident which many years ago concerned myself, and might have been tragical in its result. In the month of February, 1854, it fell to my lot to sail out of Boston harbor for Malta, aboard the bark Sylph, of Liverpool, Nova Scotia. At that period vessels sailing under the English flag were known in this country as lime-juicers, so called because in the British navy the consumption of lime or lemon juice was enforced as an anti-scorbutic remedy. The only other passenger beside myself was Gen. William A. Aiken, now of Norwich, Connecticut. The vessel was in command of Captain Roberts, of Liverpool; and the first officer was Mr. Hicks, and the second officer, Mr. Wharton. According to my recollection there were eight in the forecastle, which number, together with the cook and steward, made up a complement of fourteen persons, all told, aboard the bark. The cook and steward were represented by a single person of African descent, who prided himself both on his hair and his cooking, as well as on his brotherly kinship to the self-styled rival of Jenny Lind, who was then called the "Black Swan" (Elizabeth Taylor Greenfield), a singer, well-known in her day. His hair deserves a word of special note, as it was sometimes closely associated with his cooking, inasmuch as its elaborate dressing was done before a glass hanging just beside a stove in the cook's galley. He generally kept his long wool tightly furled in numerous curling papers that stood out from his head like spikes. On great occasions, such as Sundays and wonderful deliverances from storms, he used to unfurl his kinky locks which seemed ample enough then to fill a bushel basket.
After a delay of a week or ten days in the harbor, owing to head winds or inclement weather we set sail; and I remember well that the pilot, Fowler by name, as he was about to leave the vessel, throwing his leg over the bulwarks, said in his gruff voice to our skipper, "I will give you twenty-eight days to the Straits."
There is little to write about the trip on the Atlantic side of the voyage more than it was very monotonous, so much so that both Aiken and myself for some slight relief used occasionally to help the captain "take the sun" at noon, and in this way we both became more or less expert in navigation. It was also interesting to watch the sailors in their various duties and pleasures; and from them we learned to splice ropes and to tie fancy knots. We learned, too, the words of command in proper sequence, as given by the captain, when he ordered the men to tack ship or to wear ship, all which was of great interest to us. Occasionally in good weather we used to take our trick at the wheel in order to break the monotony of the voyage. Sometimes we would catch a porpoise, of which the liver would give us a taste of fresh meat and remind us of home. Off Cape Trafalgar we sailed over the waters which floated the English fleet when Nelson fought his famous fight. I recollect the first glimpse we had of Cape Spartel, a point of land in the northwest corner of the African continent, overlooking the Straits, which we made early in the morning of March 16, my birthday. With a head-wind it took two days to beat into the Mediterranean, where we had many calms and much bad weather. At one time we came near being wrecked in a gale off Cape de Gato on the southern coast of Spain, but generally we were cruising along the north coast of Africa, within a few leagues of land, as our sailing course was dependent upon the wind. At times we could see buildings and villages on the shore, and then would sink them behind as we sailed away.
The incident to which I have already alluded, occurred in the latter part of March, off Cape Tres Forcas on the Barbary Coast. One afternoon, as we were sailing along at low speed with little wind, two or three leagues from land, we spied two lateen-rigged feluccas, apparently following us, which at first sight attracted but little attention. Captain Roberts soon became suspicious of their movements and watched them closely, as they were gaining on us. We were going hardly more than two or three knots an hour, having little more than steering way, but they spreading much sail were faster. The captain soon gave orders to have an inventory taken of the firearms on board that could be used in case of need, but these were found to be few in number and in poor condition. The cook was ordered to heat as much boiling water as his small galley would allow, to be ready to repel any attempt to board the vessel. There was great excitement on the bark, and we fully expected to be attacked, but fortunately for us
The shades of night were falling fast,
and soon the sun went down. We then changed our course a point or two and threw a sail over the binnacle light so that the suspected pirates could not follow us; and thus we escaped what might have been a tragedy.
After our arrival at Malta we learned that three vessels had been taken by the Riff pirates, as they were called, near the time when we were threatened, and near the same point of land. Without doubt the captors belonged to the same crew as those that followed us. We were on the Mediterranean Sea at the time when the Crimean War broke out, England having declared war on March 28. This new condition of public affairs caused great confusion in the movement of steamers and in transportation generally, as steamships were much needed for military purposes; on which account my stay at Malta was somewhat prolonged. During this time I saw a good deal of the American consul, Mr. William Winthrop, who was a kinsman of our former President, Mr. Winthrop, and at a later period a Corresponding Member of this Society. At the regular monthly meeting held on November 8, 1882, Mr. Robert C. Winthrop, Jr., paid a handsome tribute to the consul, on the occasion of the Society's receiving a liberal bequest from him. He ended his remarks by saying of him: "He took a pride, however, in being a Corresponding Member,—the only one in nearly a century who, so far as I am aware, ever left the Society a dollar, and I much fear that, in this respect, he is likely long to remain unique."
Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Variant spellings have been retained, in addition to spelling errors in quoted text.