Patagonia Bookshelf
Insurrection at Magallanes (1851)
A North-American sea-captain is captured by Chilean army mutineers at Punta Arenas.
CHAPTER VI.
Comparative comfort — The American ensign — Christmas day — My visit to the barracks — The Indian boys — Cambiaso's rage — Execution of the Indian woman — The cattle slaughtered — Escape of the Indians — Fears of the rebels — Preparations for leaving — The Florida re-christened — Interview with Cambiaso — The embarking of the Colonists — Prisoners sent to the Florida.
After my removal to the Florida, I made myself comparatively comfortable, with the help of my steward Tom, who seemed as if he could never do enough for me. I was allowed to take possession of my state-room, and found some few of my personal effects lying about the vessel, which I took the liberty of taking possession of. Tom had two of my shirts, which he had washed in his best manner, and hid for me. The luxury of a change of clothes and a good bath, was delightful to me. Tom was allowed to do my cooking at the same time that he did Tapia's, our rations being brought from the barracks. I used to eat my meals, sitting on the deck, it being then the height of summer, and very warm most of the time, in the cabin.
One morning, in loitering on the deck, I saw the American ensign, which had been ignominiously thrown behind a coil of rope. I glanced around, and finding that no one was observing me, raised it, and hurried with it to my state room, concealing it beneath my mattress.
I found the Florida much injured by the neglect and rough usage she had undergone. Many of her sails were destroyed, her running and standing gear cut up, and one of her quarter boats lost. This grieved me very much; and with Tom's aid, I endeavored gradually to repair such of the injuries as it was in my power to mend, thinking that the time might come when the vessel might enable us to make our escape.
The morning of Christmas Day dawned, bringing to me so many sad recollections that I became nervously restless, and unable to remain quietly on board my vessel. Every thing seemed to remind me of home, by the very force of contrast; the wild, foreign faces around me; the strange language, made harsh by oaths and curses, which greeted my ear; the summer vegetation; the heat — all so opposed to every thing associated with the season in my mind; the recollection of the terrible scenes I had passed through; of my present danger and of what might be still before me — all pressed upon me, until some change of place seemed to me absolutely necessary.
I determined to go on shore; so, taking a boat, accompanied by Tapia and some of his men, we rowed ashore, and soon reached the barracks.
Here, every thing was in confusion — such confusion, that I quickly wished myself back again on board the barque. The soldiers were mostly under arms, the released prisoners and my crew standing in groups on the parade ground; and, looking towards Cambiaso's house, which was in the middle of the yard, I saw him standing at the door, talking to García, and apparently in a state of great excitement. Not willing to come under his notice in his present mood, I passed quietly around the yard, looking for somebody from whom I could obtain information. Mr. Dunn I could not see, he being still under guard, confined with captains Ávalos and Salas; but I soon met my old fellow-prisoner, the English mate, and from him and some of the Chileans I gathered the cause of the uproar.
There had been several visits from the Indians during the last week or two, and there was some reason to suppose that some of these late visitors had come as spies. The herdsmen who had the charge of the cattle belonging to the colony, had reported that they had of late seen Indians, armed, lurking around the cattle, and hanging about the woods which surrounded the cantonment. This had roused Cambiaso's suspicions, and on the day after I removed to the Florida, he had seized two Indian boys who had been living some time in the barracks, and, apparently with the design of intimidating the Indians, had ordered them to be conveyed to a point about two miles distant, at a place where the Indians were accustomed to pass, on their way to the barracks. There they were hung by the neck to the trees, and lanced to death, their cheeks and noses being cut off.
On Christmas morning, an Indian woman had appeared at the gate, requesting to enter and visit her son, who was in the barracks. She was carried before Cambiaso, and being questioned by him as to the movements of the Indians, and when they were coming to make another visit for barter, she contradicted herself continually. She confessed that she had seen the bodies of the Indian boys, but being asked who was with her when she saw them, she at first said, "No one;" then said she had been sent to the yard by one of the chiefs, — then that he was angry about the death of the boys. While she was being questioned, the herdsmen came hurrying into the camp, with the news that the Indians were killing the cattle, and carrying them off.
Cambiaso mustered his mounted troops hurriedly, arming them with muskets and clubs; and then, leaving the Indian woman under guard, he hastened out with his men in pursuit of the marauders. The Indians soon took the alarm, and mounting their swift horses, were off before him, leaving the slaughtered cattle lying on their pasture ground. He, however, soon put his men on the track, and leaving them to follow the Indians, returned on the gallop to the barracks, terribly exasperated. He rode in and called to the guard to bring out the Indian woman, crying, "Drag her out! kill her! shoot her down, she shall tell me no more lies!" She was dragged out before him, resisting with all her might, and pleading for her life, asking for her son, praying for his help. Her prayers were useless, and were not even listened to. Cambiaso himself collected a file of soldiers, and ordered her to be dragged to a tree and tied there. He gave the order to fire himself. Six or eight bullets struck her, but still she writhed in agony, and continued her shrieks for help. One of the soldiers, at a nod from Cambiaso, walked up to her and struck her on the head with a club, which silenced her for ever. Her dead body was hanging to the tree when I entered the yard.
The English mate, from whom I got most of this information, and who had been suffered to go at large almost unwatched since I left the barracks, told me that he had never seen Cambiaso in such a fiendish passion; that García had tried to quiet him, but without the least effect.
The troops were still out, following the Indians, and great anxiety was expressed in the yard that they might overtake and capture them. The general opinion seemed to be that the Indians, seeing the weakened and disorderly state of the colony, had formed the plan to make a sudden attack upon them, and massacre them all, for the sake of the booty which they would secure. From what I gathered, I concluded that a party of Indians had come down the pass on their way to visit the barracks, when, finding the dead bodies of the boys on their road, they had sent the woman on as a spy. Why they had commenced slaughtering and driving off the cattle, without waiting for her return, I could not tell, unless the herdsmen were so few and so easily to be overpowered that the temptation was too great for them.
At about one in the afternoon, I succeeded in persuading Tapia and his men to put off again for the barque, and happy indeed was I to find myself again on board of her.
I determined not to go ashore again unless I was compelled to, and to keep as much out of Cambiaso's way as possible. Fifty plans of escape had crossed my mind. Sometimes to leave the vessel, and strike across the country among the Indians — but from that, the fear of starvation deterred me; sometimes to get enough of my crew and of the prisoners friendly to me on board the vessel to navigate her, and make our escape in that way; but the Florida lay right under the guns of the fort, and the impossibility of getting her under weigh was too evident. Besides, I felt a great reluctance to any plan of escape which would leave my fellow sufferers, Mr. Dunn, captain Ávalos, and so forth, still in the hands of the pirates. There seemed to be nothing but to wait the course of events, and avail myself of any favorable circumstance that might occur.
On the morning of the 26th, several men from the barracks came on board to visit us, as they sometimes did, and from them we learned that the soldiers sent after the Indians had returned without being able to overtake them, after following them for twelve hours; and that there was a good deal of anxiety on shore, lest the Indians should come up in force and attack them in the night.
I had felt some desire to see one of the native Patagonians, having still my school-boy belief that they were giants, as our geographies generally inform us. During my imprisonment at the barracks, one or two of the men had visited the yard, and I had seen them from my window. They were certainly large in stature, but by no means came up to the measure of my boyish imagination. They had heretofore shown themselves friendly towards the colonists, being probably kept in awe by governor Muñoz Gamero, and the strict discipline which he enforced; but they were said to be very far from cowardly, and very savage and inhuman when roused by the excitement of fighting. I had often thought that Cambiaso had some dread of them, judging from two or three remarks about them which he had made to me from time to time.
For two or three days after this disturbance by the Indians, a sharp look-out was kept by Cambiaso, and every visit to the Florida from the shore gave me accounts of the alarm of the rebels. At last, I heard that we were all to leave the place, and the settlement was to be abandoned. I eagerly asked Tapia, from whom I heard this, if he would tell me where we were going; but I found he knew no more of our destination than I did: indeed, it was only from what he had observed on shore, and from the surmises of the men around him, that he had drawn his conclusion. I felt very anxious to go on shore and try to discover for myself how much truth there was in this report, but the remembrance of my last visit and its risks deterred me. I could only question Tapia, who went to the fort very often, and who seemed as anxious as myself to know what was to be done. It was evident that the men did not trust Cambiaso; that they feared his securing the treasure and one of the vessels, and abandoning them to the mercy of the Indians or to the Chilean government, when the news of the insurrection should reach Valparaíso. This seemed not improbable; but for myself, I judged it more likely that Cambiaso was making some preparation to join the insurgent party under general Cruz, in the province of Concepción, for I was convinced that he had in some way held communication with them before he rose against governor Muñoz Gamero. He had several times in his conversations with me, declared himself a sworn partisan of general Cruz; and once, in answer to my complaint of the outrages committed against my vessel and myself, he had said that if general Cruz succeeded in overthrowing the government at Santiago, everything connected with my case should be satisfactorily adjusted, and that I should have no reason to complain. In speaking thus, he must of course have referred to my pecuniary losses. No reparation could be made to me or to his friends, for the barbarities inflicted upon my friend, Mr. Shaw; but in Cambiaso's scale of injuries, the loss of property probably stood highest. Somewhere about the 29th or 30th of December, several workmen were sent on board the Florida, evidently for the purpose of making preparation for her departure. Her name, which was beautifully painted on her stern, was smeared over, a fresh coat of paint put on, and the word "Inesperado" (the unexpected,) inserted in its place. Wood, water and provisions in great quantities were sent to the Florida and the Eliza Cornish, and the two vessels were put in as good order as could be expected from such unseamanlike workmen.
These workmen took the opportunity to ransack the two vessels, secreting everything of value that they could lay their hands on, and throwing overboard what they thought useless. Among other things, they came across some bags of silver ore which had been overlooked in the former searching of the Eliza Cornish, and doubtless would have appropriated this treasure to the deep, if the English mate had not been standing by them at the time of the discovery, and threatened to inform against them. The bags were worth about two hundred dollars apiece.
On the morning of the last day of the year, Cambiaso himself came on board, attended by his aids, fully armed, and evidently intending to surround himself with all that could impress us with an idea of his authority. He went into the cabin, and then sent for me to come to him. When I entered, he was seated by the table, with his pistols lying before him, and dressed in his full regimentals. He received me with much politeness and offered me a seat; then commenced by telling me that the marks of hostility shown to the colony by the Indians, and the difficulty of obtaining supplies for his followers, had determined him to abandon the place, and that he had made up his mind to keep me with him, to navigate the vessel; and that he expected me to use my utmost skill, and to obey his orders to the letter, with regard to the course of the vessel. I answered him very coolly, that he had left me no choice; since I was entirely in his power, I must perforce obey his orders; that with regard to using my utmost skill, I had too much regard for my own life and the lives of my crew in that perilous navigation, not to do my best. My coolness did not seem to offend him, for he smiled as I spoke, and rising, said, "You shall be well watched, Sir Captain, and it will go hard with you if you give any cause for suspicion." After going through the vessel and giving some orders to his workmen, he prepared to leave, when I said to him that if he would give me authority, I would give directions to the workmen in regard to such repairs as the vessel might need to render her sea-worthy. To this he assented, apparently with much satisfaction, and entering the boat, his men pushed off for the shore.
New Year's Day dawned, clear, bright, and summer-like, and early in the morning the boats were all busily engaged in bringing off the colonists to the two vessels. My crew and the crew of the Eliza Cornish were sent on board their respective vessels, and my old companion, the English mate, was put in command of the E. Cornish.
We had a busy time of it on that New Year's Day. Men, women, children, provisions, water, camp furniture, and so forth, were crowded on board our vessels, and my ingenuity was taxed to the utmost to make stowage for them all. About two hundred of the colonists were put on board the Eliza Cornish, and nearly two hundred and sixty on board the Florida. Cambiaso, with García, and his other officers, took possession of the cabin and state-rooms, taking with them Mr. Dunn, captain Ávalos, and some others. The rest were crowded into the hold with the common soldiers. I was allowed to retain my state-room, as captain of the vessel, and my mates and crew were put under my command. The treasure was stored in Cambiaso's state-room, or near there, nailed up in heavy wooden boxes. I found that all the prisoners of any importance were to be put in the Florida, probably to retain them under Cambiaso's own supervision. Captain Salas, however, was sent to the E. Cornish.
Among our passengers were about a hundred goats; and as we had no pens to confine them in, a few dogs were sent with them as guards, whose duty it was to keep them within bounds. Two dozen hogs were to share the privileges of the deck with the goats.
On the evening of the 1st of January I managed to exchange a few words with captain Ávalos and Mr. Dunn, who had been sent on board just before dark. They told me that everything of value had been taken from the fort, what was portable sent to the vessels, and any things too heavy to carry away, and too valuable to be left to the Indians, had been buried in different spots around the cantonment and in the yard of the barracks, by order of Cambiaso. It seemed to them that he meditated a return to the colony, in case he met with any difficulties in navigating the vessel, and that therefore he was unwilling to abandon any thing to the Indians. We were not able to talk long, as some of the officers were standing by, and evidently watching us.