Manila (Islas Filipinas)
ALL that has been written in the past pages has been done mostly on the spot & for that reason must evidently be read with far more interest than what we inscribe from memory. My Note Book on the Philippines was unfortunately with me at Pak-Wan-Shan and was taken by the cruel Chinese who nearly killed me on that occasion, thus I am forced to revert to my mind for some of those pleasing incidents of my life which occurred in a two months visit to Manila. Our Passage on board the Brig Ylocano (Capt. Jose Martinez) was as disagreeable as it could be, I found on starting that the Capt. (who had promised to arrange my state room nicely) had done nothing at all to it, and there I was with nothing but a board to sleep upon, without matrass, blanket or anything to cover myself.–The weather was very cold in the North of China at that Season of the Year. I felt very much enraged at the lieing Spaniard for having acted thus. –But Mac., a man whom I cannot but esteem, was ever ready to assist me in my troubles. He told me that he would rather go without his large African Lion Skin (in which he slept) than to see me shivering with Cold: –I would not take it however & remembered that I also had my Old Ningpo Dog Skin with me. –The Ylocano of 226 Tons had a wretched little Cabin, the Narrow State Room which Mac. & I had together was so very small that we could hardly turn round in it, & the berths were not long enough for either of us to stretch out. At Nights also the “Cruel N. E. Wind” would whistle through the open boards & pierce into our very bones. But travelling in the East is not like travelling in civilized Europe & the Man has to put up with many things which at first he thinks he never could endure. The entire Cargo of the Ylocano belonged to a Chinese Merchant who with Eight other Chinese was on board with us. –Of course the Capt. thought all the World of the old Chinaman who had one of the four state rooms of the little cabin all to himself.
After leaving Woosung our first night was spent at anchor in that dangerous River the Yang-tz-Kiang, the wind was blowing very fresh, dead ahead & at every moment the timid Martinez was afraid of his cable giving way & of the Ylocano’s being dashed to pieces on the sand bank close by.