My visit has been prolonged by unforeseen events, but I am on my way home again, on board the steamer City of Buenos Ayres, commanded by my old friend Captain Peters, also belonging to Tait's Line, which has experienced some of the incidents and drawbacks peculiar to the formation of new companies; but from the spirit manifested by that firm, there is every prospect of the enterprise proving a successful one. The rapid increase of passenger trade to the River Plate is a notable fact that has to be provided for, independent of that to Brazil, which continues to assume larger proportions, and steamers now will get a preference of freight both ways. Two days after the storm at Buenos Ayres, to which I have referred in another place, the vessel was enabled to complete her cargo, and to get under weigh at 9 p.m., on the 19th June, reaching Monte Video at 11 a.m. on the following day. There was a fresh breeze blowing, which rendered boating somewhat hazardous, and prevented our leaving the harbour until 8 a.m. on Sunday, the 21st, when we steamed down the river, passed Maldonada, and after five days we once more entered the bay of Rio de Janeiro, where several men-of-war were at anchor. As we passed the American frigate Guerriere, the band struck up “God save the Queen,” in compliment to our captain, who was a friend of the American admiral. Her Majesty's ship Narcissus, with Admiral Ramsay on board, was also lying in the harbour, with the American steamer Kersseage, which terminated the career of the world-famed cruiser, Alabama, in the combat off Cherbourg.

The weather was beautifully fine, clear, and pleasant at Rio, very different from that I had experienced a few months previously, and rendered the two days on shore very agreeable. I had a busy time of it, seeing and taking leave of old friends, but managed to get through, and embarked on Sunday afternoon. We sailed down the harbour, again passing the men-of-war, officers and crews of which were collected on deck, and returned our salutation. Captain Wilson, flag-captain of the Narcissus, lunched on board us, with some of the officers, and a number of other friends of the passengers were on board before we started. We passed the fort at 5 p.m., when they very politely hoisted the number, “Wish you a good voyage.” The scenery of the bay looked, if possible, more magnificent than ever, under the influence of the setting sun, the outline of mountains being so clearly and vividly portrayed, and few could leave so grand a scene without a feeling of admiration and regret. Our passengers were a mixed group (including about a dozen children of various ages) of different nationalities, English, Scotch, Irish, Belgian, Dutch, and Germans, so almost all languages were spoken on board. Some English families were returning from a residence of some years in the campos of Buenos Ayres, not very well pleased with the result of their speculation in sheep farming, which has no doubt been a bad one of late, but I could not find from their report that they had undergone any particular hardships, besides which they had other reasons for returning home. As I have before observed, it is a mistake for people to go out to the River Plate to commence sheep farming under the idea they can realise a fortune and retire in a few years. They must make up their minds to rough it, and to persevere as they would have to do at home in a similar occupation.^[9]

We had favourable weather, and crossed the line on the eighth day after leaving Rio, expecting to reach St. Vincent, our only place of call between Rio and Falmouth, on the 10th of July, say thirteen days out, which is pretty fair work for a steamer with only moderate power, and carrying a large cargo. We passed many vessels knocking about in what sailors call the “doldrums”—various winds and calms—which prevail between the north-east and south-east trades, and amused ourselves with exchanging signals with several of them, getting their names, destination, &c. The monotony of a sea voyage is always relieved by incidents of this kind, and making land, the latter generally creating much excitement.

We got into the harbour of St. Vincent about 8 p.m., on the evening of Saturday, the 11th of July, in time to be visited, and I went on shore to spend the night with Mr. Miller, at his country place up the mountains, about two-and-a-half miles distant from the Consulate. It was dark, of course, but Mr. Miller's son led the way on a pony, and I followed him on another, the ascent being rather steep as we approached the house, which is very nicely perched on ground levelled on a spur of the mountain, and called Areia from the dark brown colour of the hills. Sleeping at an elevation of 800 feet, was a pleasant change after the rocking motion and closeness of the steamer's cabin, and on looking out of my window early next morning there was a charming view of the little harbour, and the picturesque mountains on all sides of it, wanting only verdure to constitute an agreeable picture. Everything was burnt up from the want of rain, which is expected about this time, when I believe the Island wears quite a cheerful aspect, though for a short time only. After breakfast, we rode down to the Consulate, where I spent a portion of the day, instead of being on board during the delightful operation of coaling, when everything is covered with coal dust. Mr. Miller has a farm on the other side of the island, where he is cultivating vines, fruits, and vegetables, having a supply of water on the spot,—the most difficult of all things to find—and he has by means of a large tank, brought a supply into the town.

I have before alluded to the great advantage presented by St. Vincent as a coaling station, and to the facilities Mr. Miller has provided to carry it on—which he is continually adding to. A steamer can take on board 200 to 300 tons of coal in a few hours, and lately the Tamer, on her way home from the Cape, took in upwards of 600 tons during daylight. It was Sunday again when we were there (a constant recurrence during the last six months, when I have been so often in and out of ports); but we were coaled and all ready to start by 5 p.m. Unfortunately, some little repairs to the boiler tubes were not completed, and we did not get up steam until 1 a.m. on Monday morning, thus losing several hours. The night was fine, and we soon got again into the open sea, on our way to Falmouth, steaming against a north-east trade. The Zaire, Portuguese mail steamer from Africa, came into St. Vincent on Sunday for a small supply of coal, sailing again in a few hours. The only other vessels were a small paddle wheel steamer, bound to Bahia, intended for the navigation of the bay, and two vessels discharging coal. At times there is quite a little fleet there, and a good many steamers are shortly expected to call with troops on their way back from the Abyssinian expedition.

Four days' hard tugging against a strong north-east trade has diminished our hopes of a tolerably quick passage. During the many passages I have made I do not recollect such strong trades at this season of the year. Our progress has, in consequence, been very slow, not averaging more than 150 miles in the twenty-four hours; and the only amusement, if it can be called such, is to exchange signals with vessels passing us, going along with the wind right aft and all sail set. It is steaming against these north-east trades that generally renders the homeward passage so much longer than the outward one, unless a steamer has great power. Still it is an immense stride over the old days of sailing ships, which generally took fifty or sixty days home from Rio, and often more. The trim of the vessel being rather too much by the head, some cargo has been removed from the fore to the after hold, and the top gallant yards struck, offering less resistance to the wind.

Two more days of trade winds, dead against us, the time being only relieved by passing a large number of sailing ships and exchanging signals with them. It would appear as if they had experienced some detention in crossing the bay, and that a considerable fleet had reached the latitude of Madeira in time to avail of the strong north-east trades between Madeira and St. Vincent. Sunday, 19th July, we passed close to the Island of Madeira, topped with clouds, preventing our seeing more than the outline, and the verdure and cultivation lies on the eastern side; still it is an event that breaks the monotony of a voyage. Before this day week, if all is well, we hope to reach Falmouth. On Thursday, 23rd July, after three days of almost complete calm, with scarcely a ripple or movement on the water at times, looking for a favourable breeze to waft us to Falmouth, this morning our old friend, the persevering north-easter, came on again, right in the middle of the Bay of Biscay, and we were compelled to steam head to wind, with a considerable sea getting up. At this season of the year westerly winds generally prevail in these latitudes, but we have not met with any, nor been able to make any use of our canvas from the latitudes of 10° north. Numerous sailing vessels keep passing us with studding sails set, but there is no help for it. From this date up to the time of our making Falmouth on the morning of Sunday, the 26th, it blew almost a gale, with a nasty rough sea, against which our progress was very slow. We steamed into the harbour on a miserably cold, wet day, but the fields about appeared burnt up for want of moisture, and we learnt that the weather had been exceedingly hot. I did not find the Railway Hotel much improved as regards board and attendance, which is a great pity, as it is a spacious, comfortable house, situated in one of the most picturesque spots in England, and would be very attractive with better management.