The pampas and Andes

Front matter

PRINCETON, N. J.

Purchased by the Hamill Missionary Fund.

Division

Preface

TO THE

ELEVENTH EDITION

I am called upon by my publishers to write an introduction to a new edition of this book ; and the opportunity is thus afforded me to answer the many letters of inquiry with which readers of my travels have honored me.

At the age of seventeen, having much idle time upon my hands, I thought it best to utilize it in the study of Man and Nature, by commencing to explore, on an humble scale and writh modest capital, the great plains of South America.

On the sixth day of November, 1854, I shipped before the mast, at ten dollars a month, upon the bark Manto, Charles Stinson, master, bound for Buenos Ayres.

By the consent of the captain I was allowed to leave the vessel after reaching South America, in order to pursue my walk across the continent. The economist may be pleased to learn that my cash capital when I left Boston was forty-five dollars. To this I added the wrnges of four months upon leaving Buenos Ayres, which swelled my resources to eighty-

PREFACE.

live dollars. While detained several months m the interior by the snow blockade in the Andes, I supported myself by running the mill of Don Guillermo Buenaparte, whose truthful adventures 1 have given the reader in the last part of this volume. Upon reaching the Pacific 'coast I again became a sailor, with advanced wages, and made the passage around Cape Horn to Boston, where I landed after eighteen months’ absence, during which time I had traversed more than twelve thousand miles of ocean, besides enjoying my experiences afoot in the Pampas and in the Andes.

When I balanced my expense account, the figures showed that I had returned five dollars richer than when I set out on my long journey, which would prove that ample funds are not a necessity to the pedestrian explorer.

The hardships of such a journey proved an excellent physical as well as mental discipline.

A pedestrian journey brings the traveller into close communion with his fellow-man and with natural objects, giving him knowledge at first hand by actual contact with things, of a character which books fail to supply. This familiar intercourse with human nature makes to him “ all men akin,” and teaches him the great lesson taught, more than eighteen hundred years ago, by the Good Master, to “ love thy neighbor as thyself.”

The Author.

Lake George, Warren Co., N. Y.

Chapter I. Passage Of The River Plata

I-hc Bark M. — First Glimpses of Life in the Forecastle. — An old Salt, and forecastle Etiquette. — A self-constituted Guardian. — Another old Salt, and how he spliced the Main-brace. — Farewell to Boston. — The Passage. — The tropical Seas. — The Rocks of St. Paul’s, and their Natural History. — First Visit of the Pampero. —

The “ Doctor’s ” poetical Effusions U

Chapter II. In The River Plata

We enter the River Plata.— Land. — Montevideo. — Another Pampero. — Effects of the Hurricane. — Its Season. — We arrive at the outer Roads at Buenos Ayres M

Chapter III. Buenos Ayres — The Province And City

Letters from Home. — A Visit to the City. — Its Population. — This tie Forests. — Agricultural Resources. — Public Edifices of Buenos Ayres. — Improvements. — Soil and Water.- - Slavery and its His

CONTENTS.

torv. — Don D. F. Siirmiento. — Paper Currency. — General Rosas and his cruel Tyranny II

Chapter IV. Visit To The Tigre And Banda Oriental

i new Acquaintance. — Preparations for a Journey. — The Departure.

— The Cochero and his Vehicle. — Residence of the late President. — Agriculture. — Fuel. — San Fernando. — Mr. Hopkins and United States and Paraguay Navigation Company. — Yerba. — We leave the Tigre. — Arrival at the Banda Oriental. — Wild Dogs. — Estancia.

— Departure for the Las Vacas River. — A Revelation. — An Ignis Fatuus. — Estancia House, and Cattle Farm. — The Proprietor at Home. — Inhospitable Reception. — The Peons. — Insulting Treatment.— An Irishman and his Opinions. — We reach the River — Gold Prospects. — We return to the Tigre. -- My Companion's

Chapter V Ascending The Plata And Parana

Rosario. — Departure from the Tigre.— A Dialogue.— 1 visit the M — The Irish Barrister’s Son. — I return to the City. — Leave Buenos Ayres. — Banks of the River. — El Rosario. — Schools, Ac. — Enterprise of the People. — Diligences. — The Press. — Vigilantes. - ParanA — Its Position. — Bank. — Railroad and its Prospects. . M

Chapter VI. A Visit To The Pampa Country

4 new Acquaintance. — An Invitation. — We set out upon the Plains.— Incidents of the Journey. — A Pampa Lord. — We visit his Mansion.

— The House and its Inmates. — Cattle. — Niata Breed. — Ostriches. Riding a wild Colt. — Trial of Horses. — The Boliadores. — Estancia Life. — The Gauchos. — Duties on the Cattle Farm. — Feast Days and Aguardiente. — Customs of the Gauchos. — Training Colts. —

The Herdsman’s Dress 71

CONTENTS.

Chapter VII. Life On The Pampas

Don Jos4 and my new Guardian. — Preparations for Departure.— Pampa Carts. — Method of driving Oxen. — Fresh Meat. — A Santa.

— Farewell to Rosario. — The Caravan. — A Halt. — Novel Mode of (looking. — First Lesson in Gaucho Etiquette. — A Name. — Habits

of the Bizcacha. — Burrowing Owls. — First Night in the Pampas. . 1C1

Chapter VIII. Life On The Pampas — Continued

A new Dress. — Riding a Ram. — Deer.— Parrots. — Mirages. — A Troop of Carts. — A Pantana. — Grass on lire. — Another Caravan.— Armadillos. — Guardia de la Esquina. — A sad Story. — Irreverence of the Peons. — Cabeza del Tigre. — Indian Attack. — Saladillo — I visit a Rancho. — Punta del Sauce. — Its Inhabitants. — A geographical Dispute. — La Reduccion. — Paso Dnrazno.

— Cerro Moro in the distance. — Indian female Spies 11)

Chapter IX. From Rio Quarto To Cerro Moro

Rio Quarto. — Indian Incursions. — A novel Method of charging a Cannon. — Scarcity of Bread. — A Bath. — The Peons’ Objection to Bathing. — Ox-brain Soup. — A mule Troop. — The Madrina. — Armadillos. — Their Habits. — A Caravan from Mendoza. — Bread and Ovens. — Preparations for a hungry Time. — A Prostration 131

Chapter X. From Rid Quarto To Cerro Moro — Continued

Prospects and Experiences. — The Peons’ dislike for the “ Gringo.” — Fear of Dr. Carmel. — Little Juan. — Suspicious Movements. — Sympathy of the China Women. — Intrigue. — The Breakfast.—

Don Manuel lacks Etiquette. — Sickness. — A Dream 15!

CONTENTS,

Chapter XI. San Luis And The Saline Desert

Don Manuel the Capataz. — His Services as Baqueano. — A Mendoza Troop of Carts. — Approach to the “ Interior Town.” — Appearance of San Luis de la Punta. — The Governor. — Indian Troubles. — A Captive. — Indian Attack. — Treatment of Foreigners. — On the Travesia. — Watering Places. — Cacti. — Cochineal. — Condiments. — Suline Mineral. — Its Properties and Analysis by Dr. A. A. Hayes. — Conjectures as to its Origin 181

Chapter XII. On The Travesia

We cross the Desaguadero. — Artificial Canals. — La Paz. — Results of Irrigation. — View of the Andes. — An Invitation to Dinner. — Gormandizing of the Peons. — Santa Rosa. — Goats. — Alto Verde. — Camp on the Road. — A Bath. — Goitre. — Preparations for entering Mendoza. — The little China. — Arrogance of the Santiagueiios. — Plants of the Travesia. — Dwellings. — A Dialogue. — We enter the Town. — An English Doctor. — Cool Treatment. — Circo Olympico.

— A Visit to Plaza Nueva 183

Chapter XIII. Mendoza

A Disappointment. — Mendoza. — The Alameda. — The Governor. — Houses, Churches, Ac. — Doings of the Priests. — The Confessionals. — Padre A. — Madcap young Ladies. — Musical Bells. — Theatre. — Inhabitants. — The Goitre. — San Vicente. — School Library. — Newspaper and Press of Vansice. — Celebration of the 25th of May. — Soldiers. — Circus Performers. — Arrival of Indians from the South.— Veracity of the Cacique. — The Correo and his Men. — Casuchas. — Snow Travel. — A new Character introduced.

— Destruction of the City. — Departure for San Juar — The consuming Lake. — Tishes. — Arrival at San Juan 1M

CONTENTS,

Chapter XIV. A Winter In San Juan

At San Juan. — Wet and dry Winters. — Don Guillermo Buenaparte.

— Visit to Causete. — I become a Miller. — Natural History. —

The Mill. — New Characters. — The Scenery. — A curious Lot. — Inhabitants of San Juan. — The Town. — Trade and Productions.

— Agricultural Tools. — Irrigation. — Don Jose the Penitent. ... 211

Chapter XV. A Winter In San Juan— Continued

A Mine. — A new Acquaintance. — An Account of the Prowess of a Diablo. — His Dress. — Horse’s Trappings. — The Rastreador. — His Skill. — A Translation from Sarmicnto 222

Chapter XVI. Viente De Zonda

Regarding ‘he Zonda Wind. — Miers’s Opinion. — Courses of the Zondas. — A Wind of long Duration. — South Wind. — Speculations upon tb« Starting-point of the Zondas 232

Chapter XVII. Adventures Of Don Guillermo Buenaparte

Don Gu lo rmo relates his Adventures. — Leaves New Bedford — Deserts iis Ship for another. — Rock of Dunda. — Terrapin Island. — Suff1 ,-ings and Escape from the Place. — Marquesas Islands. — Le» ves the Vessel. — Life among the Cannibals. — Cruel Fate of his Companions. — Settles down to Marquesan Life. — A Ship. — Es- & ■— of Don Guillermo. — Other Adventures. — Leaves Chili. — Adt «al Remarks

CONTENTS,

Chapter XVIII. Crossing The Andes

Preparations for leaving San Juan. — I leave the Mill. — The Port House — The Minister and his friendly Offer. — The Flecha. — El Durazuo. — The Hut and its Occupauts. — The Binchuca. — A bloodless Battle. — El Sequion. — Chinas. — A Troop of Mules, and a Night with the Capataz. — Up the Valley. — A Hut and a pretty Senorita. — An elevated Plain. — Camp. — Sunrise in the Andes. —

The Road to Uspallata. — Don Fernando. — An Invitation. — Farewell to Uspallata. — Indian Structures. — Asad Tale. — Cueste de la Catedral. — La I’unta de las Vacas. .............. *57

Chapter XIX. Crossing The Andes — Continued

Descent of the AndeB. — Baqueano Mule. — Waiting for the Snow to crust over. — Strange Scenery. — Below the Snow. — Another Snow- Hut. — A Drift. — Travellers from Chili. — Preparations for ascending the Cordillera. — Remedy for the Puna. — A hard Road. — On the Cumbre 296

Chapter XX. From The Andes To The Pacific

fassage down the Valley. — Eyes of Water. — The Chilians and their Characteristics. — San Rosa. — A Chilian Welcome. — A Feast. —

The River Aconcagua. — Quillota. — At Valparaiso. — Departure tor Home 30*

Chapter I. Passage To The River Plata

ONE cold November morning, in compliance with previous orders, I reported myself ready for duty at the shipping office of Messrs. S. and Iv., Commercial Street, Boston, and having received, as is customary, one month’s wages in advance, proceeded with my baggage to Battery Wharf, at the foot of which lay the bark M., destined to be my future home for many weeks. As but one of the crew had already gone on board, I had ample leisure for examining the vessel, on board of which I was to receive my first lessons in practical seamanship, and to endure privations hitherto happily unknown to me. The M. was not prepossessing in appearance, and I confess that her model did not give a favorable idea of her sailing qualities : vessels, like horses, have peculiar external points by which their virtues may be judged, and their speed determined. As I gazed upon her long, straight sides, square bows, and box-like hull, it seemed to me that her builders must have mistaken her ends; for, certes , had her spars been reversed, she would have made

(in

A THOUSAND MILES WALK.

better progress by sailing stern foremost. Some knowing ones, who have since examined this specimen of marine architecture of twenty years ago, have sustained my suspicion that the M. belonged to that enduring fleet of cruisers, now scattered over the great deep, which were originally built in the State of Maine, of which report is made that “ these vessels are built by the mile, and sawed off according to the length ordered by the buyer.”

The mate, who was occupied in receiving live stock, — i. e., two young pigs, — ordered me to stow my things “for’ard;” an order somewhat dilHcult to comply with, as the forecastle was well filled with firewood, ropes, blocks, swabs, and the various other articles used on shipboard.

I crawled down the dark passage, and was feeling about to discover the dimensions of a sailor’s home, doubting, meanwhile, whether, in reality, this narrow hole could be the abode intended for human beings, when suddenly a gruff voice called down to me, “ Come, youngster, bear a hand ! Make yourself lively ! We must clean out this shop before the crew come down ; stir yourself, and pass me up the pieces.” Obeying these peremptory commands, I applied myself to work, and in an hour’s time my companion declared the place “ship-shape, and fit for sailors.” I would remark, en passant , that this declaration was made in the face of the fact that mould and dust covered the timbers and boards, and cockroaches filled the many crevices. “ But,” said my companion, with w philosophical air, “if the place were carpeted, and lighted with a fine lamp, the fellows would be the

PASSAGE TO THE RIVER PLATA.

more dissatisfied ; the better treated they are, the worse they growl.” At tlie time I inwardly dissented from the truth of this remark ; but subsequent experi ences taught me the old salt was right.

As I had beer* of service in removing all the lumber, 1 thought to repay mvself by securing a good bunk, and therefore chose an upper one. After I had given it a thorough cleaning, and had carefully stowed away my mattress and blanket, one of the new crew entered the forecastle, and, on noticing my labors, at once removed my bed, and placed his own in its place, remarking, at the same time, that it was a highly impolite and lubberly action for an understrapper to “bunk down where he didn’t belong; upper bunks were men's bunks; lower ones, boys’.” Although I pleaded ignorance of the etiquette of the forecastle, and selected another resting-place, my shipmate continued his lecture on the rules of the sea, and hinted at the future “ rope’s-endings from the little man aft,” as he called the mate, in store for me.

During his harangue two or three of my old schoolfellows came aboard, and, on visiting my quarters, remarked upon the poor accommodations and filthiness to which I was to be doomed ; upon which remark the old tar broke out with, “ And so this is a young gentleman going to sea for the first time ? O, ho ! All right. I’ll be his guardian, and keep an eye on him when he’s aloft, and, to start fair, if my opinion was asked, I’d say we’d better go up the wharf^ and 6plice the matter over a social glass.” At this hint, so delicately conveyed, we gave the fellow a sum sufficient to allay his thirst, had it been never so great, and he

A THOUSAND MILES’ WALK.

at once took leave of us, only to return, however, in a few minutes, declaring that he had lost every cent, at the same time reiterating his offer to become my friend for a consideration.

The noise of the tow-boat now called us on deck, where we found a perfect Babel of confusion, caused by the throng of porters, boarding-house runners, idlers, and sailors’ friends, who were giving and receiving advice in quantities to last until the vessel returned to her port. About this time I was touched on the shoulder by a rough-looking personage in a sailor’s dress, who took me aside, and inquired if I really intended going to sea. “ Because,” said he, “ if you are, let me give you a bit of advice. I’m an old shell , and can steer my trick as well as the next one ; and as we’re to be shipmates, and you’re young, all you’ve got to do is to stick close to me, and I’ll larn yer all the moves.” After showing so kind an interest in my affairs, he hinted, like the other man, that there was “still time enough to step up to the house, and splice the main brace.” As I was ignorant of this point in seamanship, I handed him some money, that he might perform it alone, when he disappeared. I saw nothing more of him for the next half hour; and it was only when the vessel was about moving off that he staggered over the rail, to all appearances well braced ; and as he expressed a desire to handle all on board, from the “ old man ” (the captain) “ in the cabin to the doctor ” (cook) “in the galley,” I concluded that his splicing had received especial attention, and that his strands would not unravel for several hours to come.

These scenes on board of the M, while getting

PASSAGE TO TflE RIVER PLATA.

audcr way, were comparatively tame to others that 1 have since witnessed on other vessels. I have known men to be carried on board ship by boarding-house keepers, who had enticed them into their dens of infamy, and who had drugged them so powerfully that they did not recover their senses until the vessel had left the port. In this manner, fathers of families, mechanics, tradesmen, and other persons wholly unfitted for a sea life have been carried off, unknown by their friends. When full consciousness returned to the unhappy victims, they sought the officers for an explanation, when I have seen them so beaten and kicked, that in apprehension for their lives, they bowed in submission to a tyranny worse than that of slavery itself.

After lying for more than twenty-four hours, wind • bound, in the outer harbor, all hands were called before daylight, and though the mercury stood but a few degrees above the freezing point, the decks were washed down ; after which operation the anchor was weighed, and we set sail out upon the bosom of the broad Atlantic. When we were fairly under way, we were set to work stowing away chains and ropes, securing the water casks upon deck, lashing the anchors upon the rail ; then a short breathing spell was allowed us. While looking to windward, an old sailor, with whom I had commenced a friendship, which I was determined to strengthen, said, “Here, boy: do you see that land, there ? It is the last you will see until we drop anchor in the River Plata.” I gazed long upon it. It was Cape Cod. Its white sand-hills looked cold and drear, as the sea beat against their bases, some of which wi re

A THOUSAND MILES’ WALK.

Bniooth and sloping, others steep and gullied by th« rains. An hour after this the breeze freshened, the light sails were taken in, and the topsails doublereefed ; and as the sea ran higher, and our little vessel grew proportionably uneasy, I began to experience the uncomfortable nausea and dizziness of seasickness, which, added to the repulsive smell and closeness of the forecastle, completely overcame my fortitude, when retiring to my bunk I tried to make myself comfortable.

About five o’clock in the afternoon all hands were mustered upon the quarter-deck, and the watches chosen. To my satisfaction I was selected by the mate, and had the further gratification of finding that old Manuel, my friend, had also been chosen for our watch — a result which evidently delighted him as much as myself. Ours was the larboard watch, and remained upon deck, while the captain’s, or starboard watch, went below. The duties of sea life had now fairly commenced.

The two hours that followed, from six to eight, were passed in a pleasant conversation with the old Frenchman, Manuel. He informed me that he had his eye on the moves of the crew, and he concluded that there was but one sailor on board : it was left to my sagacity to infer that he meant himself.

Two of the crew, who had shipped as ordinary seamen, were ignorant of the duties for which they had contracted, and each man in the forecastle had shipped as an American-born citizen, with protection papers received from the Custom House, which legally asserted him as such. These papers they had obtained

PASSAGE TO THE RIVER PLATA.

from their boarding-house masters, who had purchased them at twenty-five cents each, and had retailed them to their foreign customers at seventy-five cents apiece. Of this American crew, two were Germans, or Dutchmen (an appellation given by sailors to all persons from the north of Europe), one of unknown parentage, who could only speak a few words of English, two Irishmen, one Englishman, another who swore point blank to being a native-born citizen of the States, an old mariner from Bordeaux, and myself. The law that makes it the duty of a captain to take with his crew a certain proportion of native-born Americans, had surely not been complied with here. To one of our crew I cannot do otherwise than devote a few lines.

The “ doctor,” or cook, had already introduced himself, and informed us in a short and patriotic speech, delivered at the galley door, that he would confess that his father was a distinguished Irish barrister, and that he himself possessed no little share of notoriety in the old country. He had once been taken by a celebrated duchess, as she rode past in her carriage, for a son of the Marquis of B. His amusing vanity drew many expressions of contempt from the tars, who pronounced him to be “ an idle Irish thief,” which only served to make him wax more warm in his assumptions of gentility. He was interrupted in the midst of a high-flown harangue by the loud squealing of the pigs, which squealing reminded him that his duties must not be neglected for the purpose of edifying a crowd of ignorant tars.

Our watch lasted until eight bells, when I went below, but had very little appetite for supper — a mea!

l8

A THOUSAND MILES* WAl K.

consisting of salt beef, biscuits, and a fluid which the cook called tea, although, on trial, I was sadly puzzled to know how it could merit such an appellation.

Of the three weeks which followed this flrst experience of nautical life and its miseries, I can say but little, as I labored during this period under the exhausting effects of seasickness, which reduced me to such a degree of weakness that I once fainted on the flying jib-boom, from which position of peril I was rescued and brought in by my friend Manuel. But this distressing malady wore away, and at last became altogether a memory of the past. Despite hard fare and labor, I not only recovered my lost flesh, but grew rugged and hearty, and, moreover, became tolerably familiar with the duties of a life at sea.

I have alluded to our cook, and to his ineffable conceit, mock sentimentality, and Hibernian fertility of invention.

It was his opinion that the “low-lived fellows” on board ought to feel highly honored by the presence ir their midst of at least one gentleman — a title which he continually arrogated to himself. I am sorry to say, that as a cook he was not “ a success.” lie cared very little about the quality of the food he served to us ; and its preparation was usually a subordinate consideration, with him, to the indulgence of his master passion,— the perusal of highly-colored novels, — to which he devoted every possible moment.

In the hope of improving my wretched diet, I applied myself to the study of this man’s character, and, having soon discovered his assailable point, supplied him with some works of fiction more entrancing than

PASSAGE TO THE RIVER PLATA.

any lie had hitherto possessed. I bought them just before our leaving home, thinking that peihaps some such an opportunity might offer for making a friendship with some of my messmates. His delight at receiving them was extreme ; and I received in exchange for my favors many a dish that added a zest to my food, which it had hitherto altogether lacked.

Whenever I wished to be entertained with some marvellous account of “life in the highest circles of Great Britain,” I had only to request from the sympathetic cook a passage or two from his eventful life. It was his constant lament that he had never kept a dialogue (diary) of his tn vels, which, according to his account, must have surpassed those of most mortals in adventure and interesting incidents.

Of our crew, his countryman, the “boy Jim,” was his favorite. This Jim was the red-sbirted sailor who had promised to instruct me in all the “moves” of an experienced salt, before we had left the wharf at Boston. A very few days of our voyage, however, served to prove, that he not only had no claim to the title of “old sa’t,” but also that he had never learned to “steer a trick at the wheel.” The first order that he received from one of the mates was, “ Boy Jim, lay aloft there, and slush down the foretop-gallant and royal masts!” Seizing a tar bucket, and pointing aloft, he exclaimed, “Shure, sir, and which of them sticks is it that ye mane?” thus laying bare his ignorance of all nautical matters, and bringing on himself the ridicule of the whole ship’s crew.

As with head winds we slowly drew near the variables, or horse latitudes, rainy weather, accompanied by squalls of wind, commenced, and for twenty-on# days and nights we were wet to the skin : clothes, bedding, all were saturated from the effects of a leaky deck ; and it was a common occurrence to find, on awakening from slumber, a respectable stream of water descending into the close and crowded forecastle. When on deck our oil clothes did not protect us, for from our having worked in them constantly, the oil coating had worn off : so, at the end of a watch, we wrung out our under garments, and turned into our narrow bunks, where we quickly fell asleep, and forgot our miseries and troubles, until we were aroused to them by the gruff” voice of some sailor of the other watch, shouting down the companion-way, “Ay — you — Lar-bowlines — ahoy — there; eight — bells! Lay up here, bullies, and get your duff.” Or, perhaps, “Do those fellows down there ever intend to relieve the watch ! ” exclaimed in no pleasant tones by the captain of the other watch.

The rainy season was succeeded by as delightful weather as we could have desired. A fair wind sprang up a few days before crossing the line, and with straining canvas we sped on towards Buenos Ayres. The days passed pleasantly, and our duties became light, and agreeable. Enjoyable as were these tranquil days, the nights were still lovelier in those latitudes. Tho moon 6eemed to shine with an unwontedly pure and spiritual light, and with a brightness known only to the clear atmosphere of the tropics.

As we glided along, night after night, under a firmament studded with countless lights, and over a broad expanse ruffled with short, dark waves cui'ling crisply

PASSAGE TO THE RIVER PLATA.

li< to foam, I could hardly conceive a scene of more quiet beauty. Standing upon the foiecastle deck, a glorious vision frequently met our gaze : a phosphoresc .nt light gleamed beneath the bows, and streamed along the sides and in the vessel’s wake, looking like a train of liquid gems to the imaginative observer. If we looked aloft to the white canvas of our wide-spread sails, we seemed borne along by some gigantic bird, of which the sails were the powerful wings, to the distant horizon, in which were the Southern Cross and other larger constellations, burning, like beacon lamps, leading us on to our destined port.

During these days and nights our attention was not unfrequently attracted to the dwellers in the deep, which were constantly sporting around us. Schools of black -fish and porpoises continually crossed our track ; And large numbers of flying-fish often shot across our bows, sometimes leaving at our mercy a few stragglers upon the decks.

Upon such nights as I have described, when acting as lookout by the windlass bits, old Manuel frequently came to my side, and conversed upon the various topics connected with his past life, which had been an eventful one. He was born in Bordeaux. His mother died when he was an infant, leaving him to the care of his father, who owned and commanded a small vessel engaged in the coasting trade.

While very young, Manuel preferred playing about the streets of his native city, and hiding, with other boys, among the vines which covered his father’s dwelling, to following any plan of education proposed by his father. Under the direction of an uncle, however,

A THOUSAND JULES WALE.

ho attended school when nine years old, and learned to read and write during the two succeeding years. So rapid was his progress, that the uncle, who was wealthy, offered to defray his expenses if he would fit himself for the university ; but Manuel preferred following the fortunes of his father for a season, and accordingly sailed with him along the coasts of F'-ance and Spain. But the voyage was not destined to be a pleasant one. The boy was continually offending his father, who was a cold and unlovable man ; and one afternoon, while performing certain antics upon the maintopsail-yard-arm, the old gentleman called him down, and rewarded his exertions with a lusty application of the end of the main sheet, which rope’s-ending was not to Manuel’s taste. He availed himself of the first opportunity, deserted the vessel, and joined a fine ship sailing to Havana. Before reaching Cuba he had become acquainted with the ropes, and not wishing to return to his parent until time had soothed his outraged feelings, he left the ship, and became a destitute wanderer in a foreign land. He was at that time twelve years of age. Being led into bad company, he joined a slaver, bound for the west coast of Africa. The galota in which he sailed reached the Rio Congo, and received on board nine hundred negroes, nearly all of whom were landed safely in Cuba. His wages, as boy, amounted to fifty dollars per month ; but, though engaged in so profitable an undertaking, his sense of right caused him to leave his unprincipled associates, and to seek employment elsewhere. Since that time he had served beneath the flag of nearly every maritime nation, and had also fought in the China wars