32

HORRIBLE NIGHT.

tear this sheet of paper. The most ingenious person I see is the "master of the sails." He sews most excessively quick and well. Towards evening the wind calmed, but the ship, tossed upon a horribly swelled sea, became a mortal purgatory. Still the wind is lulled, though Humboldt and others say that a Norte must last forty-eight hours, and we have only had it for twenty-four. We shall see.

7th. A most horrible night! My hammock, which I had foolishly preferred to a bed, not having room to swing in, threw me furiously against the wall, till fearing a broken head, I jumped out and lay on the floor. To-day there is a comparative calm, a faint continuation of the Norte, which is an air with variations. Everything now seems melancholy and monotonous. We have been tossed about during four days in sight of Vera Cruz, and are now further from it than before. The officers begin to look miserable; even the cook with difficulty preserves his equilibrium.

Sunday, 8th.-A Norte! The sky is watery, and covered with shapeless masses of reddish clouds. This is a great day amongst all Spanish Catholics, Le Virgen de la Concepcion, the patroness of Spain and the Indies; but no mass to-day; the padre sick, and the Norte blowing. What a succession of long faces-walking barometers !

9th. Yesterday evening the wind held out false hopes, and every one brightened up with caution, for the wind, though faintly, blew from the right quarter. The rain ceased, the weather cleared, and "hope, the charmer," smiled upon us.

The greater

was our disappointment when the breeze died away, when the wind veered to the north, and when once more the most horrible rolling seized the unfortunate Jason, as if it were possessed by a demon. Finding it impossible to lie in my hammock, I stretched myself on the floor, where, during a night that seemed interminable, we were tossed up and down, knocked against the furniture, and otherwise maltreated.

This morning there is little wind, but that little. from the north, so that the termination of our voyage appears as far off now as it did eight days ago. The faces of all on board are calmly lugubrious. Little said. A few Spanish shrugs interchanged with ominous significance.

10th. As there is only one particular wind during which it is not dangerous to approach the coast, namely, "la brisa," the breeze which usually follows the norther, we may spend our Christmas here. The weather is beautiful, though very sultry, especially during the calms which intervene between the nortes. With books one might take patience, but I have read and re-read backwards and forwards everything I possess, or can find-reviews, magazines, a volume of Humboldt, even an odd volume of the "Barber of Paris"-"Turkish Letters," purporting to be the translation of a continuation of Montesquieu's Lettres Persanes, and in which the hero, disguised as a gardener, brings the Visier's daughter a bouquet, which she condescendingly receives, lying in bed á l'Espagnole! I am now reduced to a very serious Spanish work on the truth of Christianity.

This evening, to the joy of all on board, arose the long-desired breeze. The ship went slowly and steadily on her course, at first four, then eight knots an hour. The captain, however, looked doubtingly, and, indeed, towards morning, the wind changed to the south, and our hopes died away.

11th. Contrary wind. A south, expected to be followed by a "norte seguro." But now, at eleven, A. M., it is quite calm, and very sultry, whilst to increase, if possible, our weariness, a long range of lofty mountains stretches along the horizon, from Punta Delgada to the Cofre de Perote, and on till they seem to sink in the ocean. Behind the Cofre, rises Orizava, now like a white cloud, but this morning tinged with a rosy light by the rays of the rising sun. The sea is tranquil and the horizon clear, nevertheless, the enemy is looked for. There are a few white and feathery clouds flickering there is an uneasy swell in the waves.

about in the sky, and

... At three o'clock, out burst the norther, which, like the flaming sword, guarding the issues of paradise,

"Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate
With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms,"

seems to warn off all vessels from approaching these iron-bound shores. Eleven days within a few hours distance of the coast!

16th. Five days more passed with a continuation of contrary winds and constant rolling. We are further from hope than we were fourteen days ago. Captain, officers, sailors, all seem nearly disheartened. This morning they caught the most beauti

GOLETA.

35

ful fish I ever beheld, of the dolphin species the Cleopatra of the ocean, about four feet long, apparently entirely composed of gold, and studded with turquoises. It changed color in dying. There is a proverb, which the sailors are repeating to each other, not very encouraging: "Este es el viage del Orinoco. Que él que no se murio, se volvió loco." "This is the voyage of the Orinoco, in which he who did not die, became crazy."

17th.-Spoke a goleta, which came close up by our vessel, and seemed to have a miserable set on board, amongst others, a worthy pair from Havana. who have just come out of prison, having been accused of murdering a negro. The wind continues contrary. I shall fold up this sea-scrawl, and write no more till we reach Vera Cruz.

LETTER THE FOURTH.

Distant View of Vera Cruz - Pilots - Boat from the City Mutual Salutes - Approach to Vera Cruz-Crowd on the wharf- House of Don Dionisio V-0·

German Piano

Sopilotes

Deliberations

Guard of Honor Supper Madonna Aspect of the City General Guadalupe Victoria Two-headed Eagle — Dilapidated Saint-Harp — Theatre Doña Inocencia Martinez Invitation from General Santa Anna.

VERA CRUZ, 18th.

THIS morning, the sanguine hoped and the desponding feared, for the wind, though inclining to la brisa, seemed unlikely to prove sufficiently strong to enable us to reach Vera Cruz this being the twenty-fifth day since we left Havana; a voyage that, with a steamer, might be performed in three days, and with a sailing vessel and a fair wind, is made in six or seven. About noon, the aspect of things became more favorable. The breeze grew stronger, and with it our hopes.

At last appeared in view, faintly, certain spires beside the low sandy land, which for some time we had anxiously watched, and at length we could distinguish houses and churches, and the fort of San Juan de Ulua, of warlike memory. By slow but sure degrees, we neared the shore, until Vera Cruz, in all its ugliness, became visible to our much-wearied eyes. We had brought a pilot from Havana to guide