TRAVELS IN EASTERN AFRICA.CHAPTER I.The “Ireland”—W.S.L. Postal-line—Mr. Jenkins—The Author Discovers that he is Styled a “Government”—The General’s Quarters—Proceed to Sea—Accident in the Saloon—Total Darkness in the “Lower Regions”—Spittoons and Safety Lamps—The Gale—Put Back to Plymouth—Ten Passengers Leave the “Ireland.”
The “Ireland”—W.S.L. Postal-line—Mr. Jenkins—The Author Discovers that he is Styled a “Government”—The General’s Quarters—Proceed to Sea—Accident in the Saloon—Total Darkness in the “Lower Regions”—Spittoons and Safety Lamps—The Gale—Put Back to Plymouth—Ten Passengers Leave the “Ireland.”
On the 6th December, 1856, I embarked, with my wife, on board the Royal Mail Screw Steamer “Ireland,” for the Cape of Good Hope,en routeto Mozambique, to which place I had been appointed as Her Majesty’s Consul.
Externally, the “Ireland” was what sailors call a very “tidy craft.” She was about 1,000 tons burthen; long, low, and rakish; having threemasts and one funnel, and what is called a stump bowsprit. As she was fitted with a screw propeller, she was devoid of those great protuberances called paddle-boxes, which in a steamer so materially (to my eye) destroy the symmetry of the hull of the vessel, which, in this case, was built of iron, and painted entirely black.
Flying at the mizen peak was the well known ensign of Old England, the field of which appeared to me unusually disfigured by the talismanic letters, W.S.L., in a glaring yellow colour, begrimed by soot.
On asking the meaning of those letters, I was told that they were the initials of an M. P., who had not only sufficient interest to obtain the contract for carrying the mail in a line of very slow steamers, but who was held in such dread by a venerable body of old gentlemen sitting behind the sign of the “Sea Horses,” in Whitehall, known as the Board of Admiralty, that the M. P., W.S.L., was permitted to place the initials of his name on the national ensign, without being subjected to the usual fines and penalties inflicted on those similarly offending. Others told methat W.S.L. stood for the “worst steam line,” but this I looked upon as the invention of some disappointed mail contractor.
Such was the “Ireland” externally; and, as she was at anchor in the beautiful little west-country harbour of Dartmouth, which boasted W.S.L. for its representative in the House of Commons, the saucy craft might well say, “I am monarch of all I survey.”
Arriving alongside of the “Ireland,” about one hour before her advertised time of sailing, in a small steamer full of fellow passengers, which had brought us some miles down the little river Dart, we imagined that there would be every accommodation for our reception; but, on the contrary, we found that we were not supposed to come near her for some imaginary time, which they on board could not name to us. All that we learned was, that the numerous barges then alongside of her, full of coals, had to be cleared of their cargoes before the passengers were allowed on board. To our repeated applications to be permitted alongside, we were told to return to the shore; and as it was raining very heavily, the man whowas steering the small steamer, put her helm up and made for the land; however, this being done without the consent of the passengers, they soon took matters into their own hands, and compelled the small craft to dash alongside, causing considerable damage to the coal-barges. Exposed to a volley of abuse, some of the most adventurous of the gentlemen scrambled on board, and we were actually compelled to appeal to the commander of the vessel before we could get the ladies on the deck of the “Ireland.”
It appears that we had unfortunately arrived alongside of the vessel at the cabin dinner-hour, and were exposed to all this inconvenience at the whim of the chief officer and the head steward; the former of whom wished to clear the coal-barges, and the latter to save himself the trouble of laying a few more plates on the table.
No sooner were we on board of this passenger ship than we found ourselves rudely pushed about, and, after having been driven round the wet deck with pigs, sheep, and poultry, with considerable difficulty we threaded our way through hampers, water-casks, coals, &c., to the cabin saloon.
This was an elegant apartment, decorated with gold and green, having at the further end a grate and marble mantel-piece; but as the chimney led to the screw propeller, of course, the first time a fire was lighted, the saloon and cabins were deserted in consequence of the smoke, which made one almost fancy that the ship was on fire; so it turned out to be for ornament and not for use.
Observing the state of confusion in which everything was on board this first-class passenger ship—being an old traveller—as soon as the ladies were placed in shelter from the rain, which was coming down in a most pitiless manner, I returned to the deck to look after my luggage, when I found that the chief officer had ordered the small steamer to return to the shore with the luggage of all those passengers who had succeeded in reaching the deck of the “Ireland,” contrary to his wishes. This officer, who was promised a command in the W.S.L. Line of Steamers on his return to England, took upon himself tomarkthe passengers who had so offended him, and during the passage he had to be admonished by the commander for his marked rudeness to someof the ladies, as well as the gentlemen who had acted contrary to his wishes on the occasion referred to. On an application being made to the commander, the small steamer was ordered alongside, and we recovered our luggage.
Returning to the saloon, we found considerable commotion among the lady passengers, as it was discovered that the “ladies’ saloon” had been appropriated for the use of a family.
To my inquiry for my cabin or state-room, the head steward replied, “You’re a government passenger, sir—you must go below; your cabin is the aftermost one but one, on the starboard side of the lower deck. That’s the way, sir! down that ladder.” With considerable difficulty I descended a ladder which received many a blessing from the passengers during the voyage. Arrived at the bottom of the shaft (for I can liken the descent only to that into a coal mine), I found myself in a dark, dismal locality, always afterwards denominated the “lower regions.” Here were squalling babies, fighting stewards, swearing sailors, and discontented everybodies.
On asking if there was any one there to pointout the cabins, a voice answered from a distance, “Why the d—l do you not come with that water? I will not get a bit of dinner this night;” while another one exclaimed, “I’ll break your head if you do not hurry and bring me a light?” Even the children in this dismal place appeared to be bent on doing harm, and were engaged in combat with each other, or struggling with their weary and discontented nurses.
After making good use of my lungs, a queer-looking, red-headed, one-eyed individual, in shirt sleeves, made his appearance, carrying in his hand a tin spittoon, on the rim of which was the miserable remains of a purser’s dip, by the flickering light of which I was examined from head to foot. Cautiously approaching, the stranger welcomed me on board, and requested me to make myself “quite at home.”
To my inquiry, “Who are you?” he replied:—“It’s all right, sir; you’ll know me before long. On shore they call me ‘Mr. Jenkins,’ but on board this thing I am called the ‘bed-room steward.’ However, here we are for the voyage, sir, and we must make the best of it.”
I asked “Mr. Jenkins” to show me my cabin, when he inquired what my name was. Having satisfied my interrogator on this point, he exclaimed:—
“Oh, you’re a government; come this way, sir.”
To my inquiry what he meant by calling me a “government,” Mr. Jenkins replied, “You’ll see directly, sir!”
Following this extraordinary being through a labyrinth of boxes, hampers, deal boards, carpenter’s tools, and carpet-bags, we arrived at the door of a cabin, seizing the handle of which, Mr. Jenkins cautioned me not to be disappointed, and gently opened it. Being in the after part of the ship, I expected to find a small cabin, but not the miserable dog-hole now revealed to me. It was barely six feet in length, and its extreme breadth scarcely five feet.
To my exclamation that “there must be some mistake!” Mr. Jenkins replied:—
“No, sir;henever makes mistakes! You see, sir, you’re a ‘government,’ as I told you before, and that is whyhehas given you this cabin.”
After some exercise of patience and temper, Ilearned from Mr. Jenkins thathemeant W.S.L., and that the term a “government” applied to myself, referred to my being a government passenger, a certain number of whom are carried by all steamers belonging to lines which have a contract for carrying the mails.
To my observation that I was surprised that W.S.L. was not afraid to treat the government passengers in such a shameful manner, by putting them into cabins which he could not possibly let to any other passengers, Mr. Jenkins stated that “W.S.L. was not afraid of any government, that he hated all ‘governments,’ and when he got them on board of his ships he always served them in that way.”
To this I could only remark, on more minutely examining the cabin, that it was a most disgraceful place to put a lady into. Jenkins, ever ready with an answer, immediately replied:—
“You see, sir, all ‘governments’ are supposed to be gentlemen—‘governments’ are not supposed to be married.”
“But surely, Jenkins, there must be some better cabin than this still vacant?”
“No, sir, not one; take my advice and make the best of it. You see, sir, outside here in the steerage we have little enough room at any time, but, considering we are bound to a hot climate, it will be stifling in a fortnight’s time—well, the Admiralty insist uponhistaking the full number of ‘governments’ with him this voyage. Well,hehas already let all the cabins and got paid for them; the consequence is that for one of ‘the governments’hehas ordered this ‘structure’ to be built. Just come and look at it, sir.”
Following my loquacious friend, I managed at last to reach the hatchway close to which the carpenters were elevating what Jenkins had termed a “structure,” to be adapted into a sleeping cabin for a gentleman, as I afterwards found, six feet in height.
Asking for an explanation of this stoppage to the ventilation of the “lower regions,” Jenkins, ever ready to explain his part of this passenger ship, exclaimed:—
“This, sir, is what I wish particularly to point out to you; the men employed upon it call it the ‘general’s quarters,’ the children call it ‘Punch’shouse,’ and I call it the ‘structure.’ Have you any interest, sir, with the Board of Trade?”
“What makes you ask such a question?”
“Don’t be offended, sir; I have put that question to every ‘government’ that has come on board of this ship.”
“If I was a ‘government,’ I would stop this ship—that ‘structure’ is sure to cause fever and death.”
Leaving Mr. Jenkins gazing on the “structure,” I hurried on deck and found my way into the saloon, where I explained the state of things below to my wife. I found that some ladies who had preceded us in their arrival on board, and who, like us, were government passengers, had already made her acquainted with the very inferior accommodation to which we were condemned for the voyage.
The ladies retired early that evening, for the greater number of them had travelled a considerable distance during the day; but what with the hammering kept up all night by the carpenters, the straw pillows, and the miserable coffins of berths, on comparing notes the next morning, itwas found that but few among the passengers, male or female, slept during the first night on board the “Ireland.”
On examining the “structure” the next morning, we perceived that it had visibly increased its dimensions during the night, thereby excluding light and air. Jenkins talked in a despairing tone of the “Board of Trade,” and occasionally alluded to the “Emigration Commissioners,” but despite this the “structure,” accompanied by, if possible, increasing noise, progressed, greatly to the amusement of the little boys, and to the annoyance of all adults.
After breakfast we were told that the vessel would not be ready for sea before two days, and some of the passengers and myself went on shore in search of carpenters to fit up our cabins. In my cabin, the dimensions of which I have already given, there were two sleeping berths, the lower of which it was impossible for one to lie in, much less to sleep there; and this vessel was going to cross the equator twice during her outward voyage.
Such meagre accommodation would not havebeen permitted in an emigrant vessel; and here was a mail steamer, under the pretence of being a first-class ship, obtaining passengers from the old established Indian traders, who were paying higher passage money than by those ships, and sixty passengers were crowded into a space where there was barely accommodation for half that number.
With the aid of a carpenter from the shore, the upper berth was enlarged, but with the lower one it was found impossible to do anything without curtailing the already small standing room. It was therefore turned into a receptacle for carpet-bags, and I made my mind up to sleep on the floor for the passage to the Cape of Good Hope.
With an outlay of about three pounds sterling on ourstate-room, it was made tenantable; and it was calculated that the passengers had expended about one hundred pounds on fittings in their cabins, or state-rooms, which ought to have been there on their arrival on board the “Ireland.”
Evening came, and there was no cessation to the hammering which had been going on eversince we scrambled on board. The carpenters were to be employed another night in completing the “general’s quarters,” or, as the children would insist upon calling it, “Punch’s house.” It was therefore determined, by those whose unfortunate lot it was to have their state-rooms in the “lower regions,” to remain in the saloon all night, as it was quite impossible to sleep with the hammering and shouting carried on below, accompanied, as it would be, by the thrilling tones of the interesting little darlings who had hitherto displayed very bellicose dispositions.
About eleven o’clock, we asked the head steward to furnish us with some supper; firstly, because we were really hungry; and, secondly, because we were all good-humouredly putting up with the great inconvenience of remaining in the saloon, instead of retiring to our cabins, we thought, and very naturally too, that some supper would have enabled us to pass the time more agreeably.
The steward appeared quite bewildered at our asking such a thing, and replied “that suppers were not allowed.” But we were not to be putoff with this reply. The passengers whose state-rooms led out of the saloon determined that their friends belonging to the “lower regions” should have some refreshments, and soon produced from their state-rooms innumerable delicacies, which had been laid in for the voyage. While enjoying this pic-nic, the unhappy steward, who foresaw in this demonstration the future violation of the rules and regulations of the W.S.L. Line of Steamers, without a moment’s notice, put the lights out, and left us in utter darkness. Some of the young folks proposed a serenade, to which all willingly gave their consent, and in this agreeable manner another hour was passed.
At midnight the steward again made his appearance, and informed us that we were too noisy, and that we must disperse.
Under these circumstances, there was nothing to be done but to go below. Bidding our hospitable friends in the saloon state-rooms “pleasant dreams and sweet repose,” we descended the ladder leading to the “lower regions,” and formed ourselves into a committee of inspection on the “general’s quarters,” where we found ayoung indigo planter, of five years of age, was in possession of the premises, where he insisted upon rehearsing, even at that early hour, certain portions of Punch, much to the amusement of the carpenters working at the expense of W.S.L., and of some young Scotch cadets bound to India, who, even at that early period of the voyage, began to look upon young Frank Indigo as a “fearfu’ laddie.”
The whole of that night there was a continuation of hammering, shouting, singing, whistling, and crying. And thus another sleepless night was passed; and we were all glad when daylight dawned, and we repaired to the steamer’s dirty deck.
On the afternoon of the 8th, preparations were made for going to sea; and about 5P.M., Captain Bully, the agent of the W.S.L. Line of Steamers, came on board, and informed the commander of the “Ireland” that he must proceed to sea at once.
The steam was up, and, although thick clouds were seen banking up in the south west, the scud flying fast to the north east over our heads, thesea-birds, with their alarming cries, flying inland, and the mercury in the barometer falling rapidly, Captain Bully said these indications were “all nonsense,” and that we would have fine weather; besides, if the mails were detained any longer, W.S.L. would be fined; and that therefore we must go to sea, after which he had nothing to do with us. Accordingly, at 6P.M., we passed from the snug little harbour of Dartmouth into the English Channel, to breast a gale of whose approach even the ducks and geese on board the ship were sensible.
As soon as we got into the Channel, we found it was blowing fresh, with a heavy cross sea from the south west. The engines were weak, and, although the screw propeller made a great deal of noise, it did very little work.
In two hours’ time all the passengers were obliged to retire to their state-rooms, with the exception of a few old tars, myself being numbered among the latter.
As the night advanced the wind grew louder, the sea more boisterous, and the straining and creaking of the ship, together with those mysteriousnoises which are heard in a new vessel, increased.
In the “lower regions” we were entirely in darkness, and it appeared impossible to procure a light in the state-rooms.
In the middle of this melancholy state of affairs, a fearful crash was heard in the saloon, which conveyed the impression to those below that something serious had happened. The report was immediately circulated in the “lower regions” that the marble mantel-piece had been carried away, killing three of the gentlemen in the saloon. When the accident occurred, I happened to be in the saloon, and was fortunate in saving one gentleman from seriously injuring himself. The fact was that the seats or benches running along the saloon-tables were secured to the deck by large screws, which, being made of inferior metal, or imperfectly cast, snapped off during one of the heavy rolls of the vessel; the consequence was that all those persons seated on the bench which gave way were precipitated with some considerable violence against the side cabins, suffering more or less injury. The secondofficer and two of the passengers were a good deal hurt, the officer being carried to his cabin.
As I sat at the end of the table, near the marble mantel-piece, until the real circumstances of the case were known, it was supposed by many that I was one of those injured, and, on descending to the “lower regions,” I found my wife, who is a great sufferer at sea, almost dead with terror. For, it appears, she heard those outside of her cabin say that three of the gentlemen were killed. This accident had such an effect upon her nervous system, that she did not recover from it for the whole voyage.
On asking Mr. Jenkins the cause of his portion of the ship being in darkness, he replied that “the candles sent on board were too large for the lamps in the state-rooms, and that it was impossible for one man to cut them down fast enough.”
Jenkins had no one to help him, his ordinary assistants having to yield to the “mal de mer,” and he was at his wit’s end what to do to keep the place lighted. Fertile in invention, on this occasion a most amusing idea came to hisaid. In the earlier part of the day he had come across some dozens of tin spittoons, which had been sent on board the vessel, by a mistake, for some other articles of more importance. Jenkins bethought him of these useless implements, and having tried one of the offending candles, he found that it would just fit into the spittoon, and he at once decided upon saving himself the trouble of reducing the candles by placing them in the spittoons. Accordingly, on a bed-room candle-stick being asked for, Jenkins handed one of these spittoons, with a candle in it, accompanied by a polite bow and a bland smile, as if he was supplying the latest fashion of safety-lamp. It was afterwards suggested to Jenkins, by a lady, that if the candles were held in hot water they might be evenly reduced to any diameter; while, at the same time, there would be a considerable saving of the material, which Jenkins might turn into money on getting into harbour. The hint was taken, and the passengers were not compelled to use a spittoon for a bed-cabin candle-stick.
There was little sleep in the “Ireland” thatnight, what with the noise below, the rolling and pitching of the ship, the screams of the affrighted children, the rushing of feet upon deck, the noise of the steam, and the screw-propeller—all occasionally hushed in the howling of the tempest. Still the “Ireland” had to breast the sea, and it would be no common gale that would induce her determined commander to put back.
About four o’clock the next morning, we were disturbed by a noise which made every one in the afterpart of the vessel, below the upper deck, imagine, for a moment, that the ship had struck a rock, so violent was the shock given to the frame of the vessel.
On inquiry, it was ascertained that one of the extra water-tanks carried on deck, not having been lashed, had got adrift; and, after having first nearly unshipped the funnel, it brought up against the bulwark, where it injured the side of the vessel considerably.
So slight a cause creating so violent a shock gave us but a poor opinion of the frame of the ship, which we found was built by contract.
The storm continued with that loud howling of the wind, and sharp whistling among the shrouds, which betokened the increase of the gale; while, occasionally, the vessel would descend into the sea as if she were overburdened, and anon a mighty sea would strike, arresting her in her progress, and making her shake from stem to stern.
At five o’clock the close-reefed topsails were blown into ribbons, the storm staysail was torn to shreds, and the engines, unassisted by canvas, soon gave indications of their weakness. It was found that the machinery was totally unfit to drive the vessel in the face of the gale and sea with which she had to contend. As day dawned, there was every prospect of an increase of the gale, and the prudent commander determined to seek shelter while yet the engines were not disabled. Hardly had we bore up for Plymouth, when the gale increased, and, by the rapid falling of the barometer, we had reasons for believing that the most dangerous part of the revolving storm passed very near to us.
As soon as we were at anchor under shelter inthe magnificent breakwater at Plymouth, the passengers began to make their appearance in the saloon, and it was then discovered that there were not seats for many of them at the table; in consequence of which, and the general discontent at the arrangements on board, ten of the passengers left the ship.
This created some vacancies in the state-rooms leading out of the saloon, and as I was obliged to go on by that mail, I insisted upon having one of the vacant state-rooms, by which means we left the “lower regions.” All the fixtures which we had put up for our comfort were removed to our new quarters, and the ladies on board said that my wife’s cabin was the most comfortable in the vessel, which I thought was not saying much for it.
During our late cruise, many of the ladies who had embarked without their husbands fared very badly. Mrs. R., with two children and a nurse, passengers to Mauritius, from the hour she came on board, on the eve of our departure from Dartmouth, until her husband stepped on deck at Plymouth, to take herself and little ones onshore, had not tasted anything with the exception of a little cold water taken from a can in her cabin, which was so strong of paint that it made herself and her children quite ill. Of course this lady and her family did not return to the “Ireland” after landing at Plymouth, nor would any of her friends sail again in any vessel having W.S.L. connected with her.
Soon after our arrival at Plymouth, we had a warm invitation from our friends on shore to renew our late visit. We got a good ducking while reaching the shore in one of the Plymouth boats; but this and our past dangers were soon forgotten in the affectionate greetings and smiling welcomes of our kind friends. But this was not to last long, for the next day, as we were sitting down to an early Sunday dinner, a carriage drove up to the door, with a note from the Captain of the “Ireland,” telling us that he was going to start immediately; so, once more taking a hasty farewell of our hospitable friends, we found ourselves again on board the “Ireland.”