South and North; or, Impressions received during a trip to Cuba and the South

Front matter

SOUTH AND NOimi;

IMPRESSIONS RECEIVED DURING A TllID TO CUBA AND THE SOUTH.

BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.

Chapter I. The Voyage

Thursday ^ Dec. 1, 1859. — The steamer De Soto, on lier regular trip, should have sailed at three o'clock, yesterday p.m., for Kew-Orleans via Havana ; but, in consequence of some necessary repairs in the machinery, we were delayed a day. As the advertised hour was three o'clock, we took a carriage at one o'clock p.m., that we might avoid the great crowd ever assembling at the departure of one of these ocean steam-ships. At half-past one we reached the dock. The throng was already immense, and it took a lono; time before we could worm our way through the mass of carriages, carts, horses, men and piles of freight wliicli encumbered the wharf.

At length the carriage arrived at the foot of the stairs, by which we were to ascend the side of the ship. The deck of the steamer was about as high above the wharf as the eaves of an ordinary two-story house ; and an incessant crowd was passing up and down. We threaded our way through the multitude to seats at the stern of the ship, and sat down to contemplate the scene which, however familiar, is always interesting. The shi23 was crowded to its utmost capacity, with passengers and their friends, while two opposing currents were flowing incessantly in and out. A steam-engine was at work, raising immense piles of freight, a dozen boxes at a time, and lowering them into the capacious hold. The trunks also, similarly grouped, were rising high into the air and then sinking to unknov/n depths below. At the same time scores of men Avere at work upon the paddle-wheels and the engine, hammering with a deafening noise.

The whole aspect of the ship and of the wharf was that of chaotic uproar and confusion ; for there were other ships and steamers all around in the closest possible proximity : some coming, some going, some getting up steam, some letting it off; while the whole harbor was alive with sailing vessels of every rig, and steamers of every pattern and size, in numbers which I in vain endeavored to count. Hour after hour thus passed aAvay, and we seemed to be approaching no nearer the end of noise and confusion. The sun went down ; darkness and the stars came, and lamps were lighted. Every ship in the harbor had lanterns in the shrouds ; the streets of New -York were in a blaze of illumination. The opposite shores of Jersey Cit}^, Hoboken, and, far down the harbor, the hights of Staten Island, glittered like terrestrial constellations, actually out-rivaling the celestial clusters which the bright moon paled.

At seven o'clock, the ship still moored to the wharf, we were summoned to tea. Capacious as were the accommodations of the ship, it was soon evident tliat there were many more passengers than could be seated at the tables. It was found necessary to spread them twice, though there were two tables extending along the diningsaloon, about fifty feet in length.

At ten o'clock, the steamer left the wharf. The night was calm and brilliant, and the light of a waxing moon illumined the harbor. The sail down the bay and out of the narrows^ the canopy above twinkling with stars, and the expanse beloAV still more brilliant with the myriads of gas lights beaming from Long Island, Staten Island, Manhattan and the Jersey shore, presented a scene which wakes up the responses of the soul. It is now twelve o'clock at night. The land lias entirely disappeared. A few light-houses glimmer in the distance with their intermittent or party-colored rays, and nothing else is to be seen but the sky above and the ocean around. Every state-room is filled, and tlie floor of the cal)in is covered with sleepers upon mattresses. I have a pleasant room on deck, \vliicli is usiialkv^ llie smoking-room. It is about twelve feet square, and in consequence of tlio crowd of passengers, is fitted up with temporary bertlis. I share this room with nine young gentlemen, most of whom are Spaniards returning to Cuba after spending the summer at the North.

Friday^ Dec. 2. — ^Last night the wind freshened, and we have to-day what the sailors would call a fine ten-knot breeze. The sun is bright, and the air fresh and mild. Though far from rough, our ship rises and falls over the oceanswell sufficiently to make almost every passenger siclv. We have one hundred and eighty passengers on board, and the various employes of the ship, consisting of sailors, waiters, firemen, engineers, etc., amount to one hundred more. Thus our little floating mansion, perhaps one hundred and thirty feet long by thirty feet wide, carries two hundred and eighty souls. At breakfast this morning, not more than twenty gentlemen were present, and but two ladies. One of these ladies sat for a moment, then, as the ship bowed gracefully over one of the waves, 1^

10 SOUTH AXD NORTH.

she turned ashy pale, and, with a tottering step, sought her state-room. It is hardly too much to say that the ship has this day presented but an aspect of misery. Pale, forlorn, woe-stricken faces meet you every where. HapjDy are they who can conceal themselves in state-rooms ! Some are pillowed on the floor, some are seemingly dying upon the deck, occasionally uttering most pathetic groans, and hurrying with reeling footsteps to the sides of the ship. There is not a smile to be seen. The change is marvelous from the gayety and mirthfulness of yesterday to the gloom of to-day. A gentleman in condoling tones inquired of a lady how she felt.

"Ah!" said she, looking up languidly, "is that you ? I have sounded to-day the ver}^ lowest depths of human misery!"

But sea-sickness, 'direful as is the Avoe, is one of those woes which only provoke the merriment of those who arc not suffering from it. The aspect of our shi^^ to-day would convince any one that "traveling is one of the most painful of pleasures." There are many children on board, screaming willi discomfort, wliile tlieir mothers and nurses are so sick that they can with difficulty hold up their heads.

About noon we plunged into a fog-bank, so dense that we could not see the length of the ship. Tliough all day long we had not seen a sail, occasionally, while groping through this fog-bank, the whistle was blown and the bell rung as a safe-guard against collision. We have been steaming along the coasts of Maryland and Virginia about one hundred miles from the shore. Night at length darkened gloomily around us. The decks were wet and slippery ; the cabins suffocatingly close, and wailing of children, and still more painful utterances of sick passengers, fell every where upon the ear. There were few on board who did not earnestly wish that they were at home. And yet this was at the close of a day of unusually fine weather.

Saturday, Dec. 3.— The change is marvelous ! In the night the wind died down to almost a perfect calm. The sun rose from the mirrored sea this morning with briUiance which can not be described. We are in the Gulf-stream, and it is a warm, bahny summer's day. Two or three sails are visible in the horizon. A school of black-fish amused us for a time with their gambols. Early in the morning an awning was spread over the decks to protect us from the sun. Nearly all have recovered from their sickness, for the noble De Soto glides along as smoothly as if v/e were in a river.

One can hardly imagine a more attractive scene than the decks now present. Groups of gentlemen and ladies, full of joy, leave not a space unoccu]3ied. Children, attended by their slave nurses, who are black as ebony, and rotund in the most approved fashion of crinoline, are playing with their dolls. These young nurses are pretty girls " carved in ebony." They are probably selected for their good looks, as a gentleman loves to ride a handsome horse, and, being petted with light work and kind treatment and being as well fed, and about as well clothed as are their mistresses, they look con-

TUE VOYACxE. 13

tented and liappy. Tlicy evidently love tlie children and the children love them. Their lot, thus viewed^ certainly does not apj^ear a hard one.

These Spanish children arc, many of them, very fliirydike and beautiful, and they run around the deck with gentleness and politeness ^Yhich seems instinctive to the race. I have never before seen a set of passengers on ship-board so truly refined. I have not yet hearcl an oath or witnessed an ungentlemanly act. Kot even a pack of cards has been seen, and there has not been the slightest approach to intemperance. The spirit of rowdyism, so far as my observation extends, is almost peculiar to Young America. There are nine young Spanish gentlemen who occupy the room with me. We have to be very accommodating in dressing, as but two can dress at a time. But there has been, thus far, the constant exhibition of as much refinement and delicacy in word and action as the most scrupulous person could desire. This morning, in speaking of the very gentlemanly cliaracter of our companions, to one of our fellow-passengers, a gentleman of remarkable intelligence, and who has spent his life as a traveler, he remarked :

" Ah ! if you wish to see the difference, you must go on board a ship of returning Californians. I have had my cheeks tingle with shame, when traveling with foreign gentlemen in my own country. There is no vulgar rowdyism in the world to be compared with that of young Americans."

It is a lamentable fict that there is a portion of our population, and a portion which esteems itself as belonging to the class of gentlemen, which seems to think that happiness can only be found in noise, coarseness and destruction. To them having a good time is to get half intoxicated, and to make night hideous with revelry.

All the day long we have glided over a smooth summer sea. One of the greatest pleasures of traveling consists in the number of very agreeable companions one makes. We have found on board tliis ship gentlemen and ladies of tlic most attractive character, with minds highly cultivated and manners polished by extended intercourse with the Avorld. As we were sitting beneath the awning upon the deck to-day, fanned by a balmy breeze, with the decks crowded with peaceful and happy groups of gentlemen, ladies, and pleasant children, I turned to J. and said : " This is truly delicious.'''' Conscious that the epithet was not exactly appropriate, I could not be contented with one less expressive. But she promptly replied : ''Yes, indeed, it is perfectly delicious."

By observation to-day at noon we were in latitude 35°, 13', that is, a little south of Cape Hatteras. For some unknown cause, storms sesm to cluster around these perilous shoals which shoot far out from the Cape to the very edge of the Gulf-stream. Thousands of seamen have here found a watery grave. The current of the Gulf and the prevailing north-east winds drive the fog-enveloped ship upon the shoals, and there is no longer hope. We have had wonderfully j^leasant weatlier in doubling the Cape. The Gulf-stream here is about one hundred miles broad, the temperature of the water being at 76'^, and we have been nearly all day crossing this " river in the sea."

As the sun went down to-night, the moon came out from the clouds, and shone with great but intermittent brilliance. "We sat uj^on the silent deck until a late hour enjoying the novel scene. There was not the slightest chill in the air, and it was a luxury to breathe. The whole day has been one of rare enjoyment. If traveling is sometimes the most painfid of pleasures, it is also at other times the most deligrlitful.

Chapter II. Tropical Seas

JSabbaiJi, Dec. 4.— Another cleliglitful day. The sun rose brilliantly. A few fleecy clouds add to the beauty of the sky. A gentle southern breeze ripples the ocean without causing any breaking of the waves. Our ship's company, in quietude and external decorum, are as observant of the Sabbath as if all were devout Christians. We have one aged Cuban planter on board, eighty-eight years of age, a man of vast wealth, his property being estimated at over two millions of dollars. His brother, a Mississippi planter, recently died, leaving a still greater property. His cotton crop was often six thousand bales, whicli at fifty dollars a bale, the average price, brings in an income of three hundred thousand dollars. The whole expense of working this property was $60,000 a year. Thus he received a net income of $240,000 per annum. Such is the argument which sustains Slavery.

I am now writing in the cabin, which is about ten feet high above the water. The windows are all open, and the wind breathes most gratefully throu.gh. Groups are all around me talking in Spanish ; some walking up and down the floor, some reclining on lounges and reading. The deck presents a still more animated spectacle. On the fore-deck, where the awning has not yet been spread, it is almost insupportably hot; on the spacious after-deck, beneath the awning, it is cool and delightful. Perhaps one hundred persons are assembled there, in such groups as elective affinities associate. The sun is bright, the ocean smooth, and we are in the rich enjoyment of a Sabbath which is the " bridal of the earth and sky."

Twelve o'clock at nirjlit. — This evening has been one such as is seldom enjoyed in a life-tiine.

TKOriCAL SEAS. 19

Some one has said: "I would go farther to see a man than a mountain." We have had this evening l30th the man and the mountain ; that is, the beauties of nature, and the joys of intellectual converse. As the sun sank beneath the waves, almost immediately, Avithout any apparent transition of twilight, we were enveloped in the glories of one of the most brilliant of nights. The moon was in the zenith. Jupiter was beaming with its peculiarly mild lustre in the north-east ; and those familiar constellations, which all have learned to love, the Pleiades, the Hyades and Orion, emerged one after another, seemingly from the bosom of the deep ; while Sirius and Aldebaran, in rivalry strove to outshine each other. There was not the slightest chill in the air, and the deck Avas filled with groups of gentlemen and ladies, in quiet social converse, luxuriating in the scene.

The chief joy of traveling is, with me, the excitement of emotions which can be felt, but not described. The enjoA^ments of this evening were of that character. Our captain is an ex-

20 SOUTH AND NOETII.

ceeclingly agreeable man of high intellectual culture. We have also made the acquaintance of another gentleman on board who, in extent of information, is not surpassed by any man I have ever known. He is alike at home in science, in the classics and in all polite literature. He is familiar with all parts of the world, and is also a polished genntleman, and, that which is above all the rest, a genial Christian. Speaking half a dozen languages with as much fluency as if they were his mother tongue, and possessing a memory marvelously retentive of all he has seen and heard, he is one of the most agreeable companions that can be imagined.

We formed a little social group this evening, five of us, consisting of the captain, our friend Mr. C, a highly accomplished and well-informed lady, J. and myself; and hour after hour glided away in the most delightful social communion. 'No book that was ever penned has contained so charming a variety. There was mirth and ponsivencss, sublimity and comicality, profound })hilosophy and the play of fancy, his-

TROPICAL SEAS.

tory, biography, anecdote, tears and smiles, and all this while gliding along over a tropical sea, and beneath a serene sky, illumined by moon and stars. One does not enjoy many such evenings in a life-time. The midnight chime of eight bells was struck before I left the deck. Monday morning, Dec. 5.— We have had a sultry night, but the sea was smooth, the wind fair, and we have been gliding on our way at the rate of eleven miles an hour. This morning I arose with the sun. The sky was cloudless, and though the fresh trade wind scarcely broke a wave upon the ocean, our ship rose and fell majestically over those strange billows which sailors call a ground swell, and which poets have spoken of as the heaving of ocean's bosom while she sleeps.

The arrangement for meals on ship-board, is breakfast, informally from a quarter of eight to nine ; lunch at twelve ; dinner, two tables, in consequence of the great number of passeno-ers first table from one to two, second from two to three ; supper at seven.

At an early liour this briglit morning, tlie awnings were spread, and tlie passengers crowded upon deck. All the windows of the cabins were thrown open, and what are called windsails were arranged to carry a current of fresh air through the heated rooms. It is now eleven o'clock, and quite oppressively warm. I have left the crowd sitting beneath the awnings on the deck, and with no little self-denial have comedown into the cabin to add to my journal. Seated in a chair, which is a fixture, I am writing at one of the marble tables, which also can not be moved. Several little children are playing around upon the floor, talking Spanish, and many gentlemen and ladies are seated around the sj^acious saloon, some reading, and others conversing. Through the state-room windows, when the doors are left open, I can see the sky, so bright and clear, and occasionally catch a glimpse of a sparkling wave, as our ship plunges through it.

This morning as I was sitting upon the deck, a very benignant looking gentleman, apparently about sixty years of age, came and took a seat by my side. I found him to be a Cuban planter, gentlemanly, frank, and peculiarly kind in his feelings. We talked for an hour, and I can only regret that I can not record every word which he said, just as it was uttered ; for in such a record there could not be the slightest violation of propriety. I can only give the substance.

He said, that for a respectable plantation in Cuba, one needed two thousand acres of land, and two hundred negroes. That the laborers would average about ten hogsheads of sugar each, bringing a net profit of four hundred dollars, and that thus the net profits of the plantation would be $80,000. This he considered pretty fair business. An able-bodied slave would readily bring 1500 dollars, and the planters generally preferred those freshly imported from Africa to those who were natives of Cuba, because the nevvdy arrived Africans have less vices. He did not seem to think slavery efficient as a missionary institution. As a general rule, all the

24 SOUTH AN]) NORTH.

inhabitants of tlie Island, with tlie exception of the authorities, were in favor of the slave-trade, as they were anxious to get as many negroes as possible, but that he did not think it right to tear the poor creatures from their homes in Africa, and that he had just been arguing the point with a brother planter on board.

There were, he said, many of what are called " poor whites" upon the Island, but that there was no suffering from poverty ; that the climate was so luxurious that but little clothing was needed, and that a small sweet-potato patch, and a few plantain trees would give one of these families all they wanted. '' We have," said he, '- no winter with us, as you have, to pinch up those people and make them work. It is often said," he continued, " that if the Island were to fall into the hands of the French, or the English, or the Americans, they would soon make things look differently. But I have observed that whoever comes to our tropical climate, feels its enervating effects, and soon becomes as indolent as any of us."

This man's nature seemed to overflow with kindness. I am sure that neither horse, nor cow, nor slave would intentionally be treated with any cruelty by him. But there is another planter on board, whose property is estimated by millions, who looks to me like a hard man. The domestic slaves on board, who are the waiting maids of the matrons and young ladies, appear petted and happy ; but there is one poor girl here, black as jet, who looks forlorn enough.

A gentleman told an anecdote yesterday, of Andrew Jackson, which was new to me, and quite illustrative of that frank, blunt man. The General once invited a clergyman, for whom he had a high regard, to dine with him. One of the of&cers, an infidel, rudely assailed the clergyman with the question : " Do you really belie ve, sir, that there is such a place as hell?" General Jackson instantly interposed in a strongvoice, which arrested the attention of the whole company.

'' I, sir, believe there is such a place as hell !" 2

26 SOUTH AISTD NOETH.

" Indeed, sir," said the officer, " and may I inquire on wliat ground you found your belief?"

''Because," tlie General replied, "if there were no liell, there would be no appropriate place in the future world for such persons as you are."

And this led to an equally characteristic anecdote respecting George AYashington. He one day invited several of his staff to dine with him. In the course of the dinner, one of the officers uttered an oath. Washington struck the table with his knife, producing instant silence, and then said in a low, sad voice : "I thought I had invited none but gentlemen to dine with mc to-day."

There are sad scenes on board ; invalids pale and weak, seeking a southern clime, hoping for health, but doubtless to die. In the pleasant afternoons they come upon deck, look pensively upon the gay throng, try to smile, but oh ! what sadness in a smile which can not veil a sorrowstricken heart. As it breezes up a little, they

TROnCAL SEAS. 27

draw tlieir sliawls around tliem ; the liectic flusli, the hollow cough, reveals their doom to all but to themselves. At an early hour they go down to the solitude, the silence of their state-rooms. God is there with them. He sees their tears and hears their prayers. " May you die at home," is an eastern benediction.

There is one young mother here. She has left two babes at home with her husband, and has with her two lovely children, a son and a daughter of six and four. She is going to Cuba to pass the winter ; poor mother ! summers and winters will come and go, but she may never see her Kew-York home again. She sajs that nothing could have induced her to leave her babes but love for them ; that she must do every thing in her power, for ineir sakes, to prolong her life. Thus joy and sadness meet us. In contrast there is on board a beautiful Spanish bride, who can not have numbered more than seventeen summers. She is returning from her bridal-tour to the United States, and is full of health and joy. Her young husband is devoted to her ; they have evidently wealth, and her buoyancy of spirits, fluency of speech, and lively repartees, surround her with an atmosphere of mirth.

I have had a long conversation to-day with a lady from St. Thomas, a small but commercially important Island, nearly a thousand miles east from Havana. This Island belongs to the Danish government, and contains six hundred thousand whites, and the same number of blacks. About twelve years ago, these blacks, then slaves, were all emancipated by the home government. The white inhabitants were all opposed to this act at the time, but she thinks that they would not now wish to have slavery reestablished. She gave me almost precisely the same account of the poor blacks in St. Thomas, which the Cuban planter gave me of the poor whites in Cuba. The climate is so genial, and sweet potatoes and fruit so abundant, that people can live in semi-barbaric comfort, almost without labor. There is, however, this difference, the poor whites in Cuba can not be induced to work for wages, but tliere is no difficulty in liiring the services of the blacks.

She says that the blacks arc all perfectly submissive to law, that there is the kindest state of feelino" between them and the whites, and that the idea of any danger from them, on account of lawlessness or insurrection, never occurs to any mind. The Island is very small, with no large plantations. Energetic white men spend a few years there in trade, until they accumulate a comfortable fortune, and then move to some place where they can enjoy it. The blacks having no strong motive for work, are a harmless, indolent, untroubled people, religiously inclined, slumbering their years away in a state of great contentment.

Our voyage is so delightful that I am looking forward with regret to its close. This afternoon and evening the 'whole ship's company seemed to be assembled upon the decks. Though a hundred miles out at sea, we were coasting along the banks of the most majestic and extraordinary river upon the globe.

" There is a river," says M. F. Maury, " in tlie ocean. In the severest droughts it never fails, and in the mightiest floods it never overflows. Its banks and its bottoms are of cold water, while its surface is of warm. The Gulf of Mexico is its fountain, and its mouth is in the Arctic Seas. It is the Gulf-Stream. There is in the world no other such majestic flow of waters. Its current is more rapid than the Mississij^i or the Amazon, and its volume more than a thousand times greater.

" Its waters, as far out from the Gulf as the Carolina coasts, are of an indigo blue. They are so distinctly marked, that -their line of junction with the common sea-water, may be traced by the eye. Often one half of the vessel may be seen floating in the Gulf-Stream water, while the other half is in common water of the sea."

We have crossed this magnificent stream where it was about one hundred miles in breadth, and are now coasting down its eastern shores, that we may avoid the flow of its central current. The deep ultra-marine of the pelagic river, stands iu marked contrast with tile almost prairic-grcen of tlie ocean tlirough. wliich tliis mj^sterioiis flood is poured.

All have seemed reluctant, this balmy night, to retire to the hot cabins. The moon is nearly full, and the most gorgeous of the constellations look down upon us from these tropic skies. We expect to make the light upon Great Isaacs, a vast rock emerging from the great Bahama banks, at twelve o'clock at night. As this will be the first land we make since leaving Kew- York, I am anxious to see it, and, if possible, in the bright moonlight, to catch a view of the long line of rocks, the tops of oceanic mountains, which we skirt for many leagues. I therefore now '' turn in," to be called up at twelve o'clock.

Tuesday morning^ Dec. 6. — "We have another bright and sunny day. The trade winds blowing freshly from the north-east, fill our sails, and the steamer rises over and plunges through the waves gloriously, with the speed of a racehorse, dashing the billows in broad furrows of foam from lier bows. It is lialf-past ten o'clock A.M. The canvas awning covers tlie spacious after-deck, and more than a hundred persons are ckistered beneath it. We have three nuns on board, sisters of the Sacred Heart, in their antique ungainly costume. Two of them are young and pretty, and evidently as vain of their accoutrements as ever was city belle of her Parisian trousseau. They are very plump, and in such good condition of rubicund cheek and embonpoint, as to prove that neither vigils nor penance are hard upon the flesh. The fare of the anchorite must certainly be very nutritious. A lady of our party, who has been to Eome, seen the Pope, and touched, though not kissed the brazen toe, quite won the heart of one of these sisters by her narrative. "But I should think," said the lady to the pretty little nun, " it would be very hard for you to do the very toilsome work of the nunnery."

"I assure you, madam," said the sister, twirling her prayer-book, and with a pout which would have honored any drawing-room ill Fiftli Avenue, *' tliat tliese hands never did xiny otlier work than to decorate the altar."

" Are 3^ou sisters of charity !" asked the lady very innocently.

" Sisters of charity !" she replied, " no !" and then, as if worldly ambition was becoming too triumphant, she said: ''I am afraid I am not good enough to be a sister of charity, they have so much to suffer and to do." Having done this penance, the young heart, true to its frail instincts, revealed itself in the words: '' We are Ladies of the Sacred Heart! We belong to the Society of Jesus ! We are the highest order in the Church !"