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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77323 ***




                                 NOTES
                                 ON THE
                              WEST INDIES,
                   INCLUDING OBSERVATIONS RELATIVE TO
                         THE CREOLES AND SLAVES
                                 OF THE
                          =Western Colonies,=
                                  AND
                    _THE INDIANS OF SOUTH AMERICA_;
                       INTERSPERSED WITH REMARKS
                                  UPON
                     THE SEASONING OR YELLOW FEVER
                            OF HOT CLIMATES.

                            SECOND EDITION,

  _With additional Letters from Martinique, Jamaica, and St. Domingo_.


                       BY GEORGE PINCKARD, M. D.

                  Of the Royal College of Physicians,
     Deputy Inspector-General of Hospitals to His Majesty’s Forces,
                Physician to the Bloomsbury Dispensary,
                  The London Female Penitentiary, &c.


                            IN TWO VOLUMES.

                                VOL. II.

It is a strange thing, that in sea voyages, where there is nothing to be
seene but sky and sea, men should make diaries; but in land trauaile,
wherin so much is to bee obserued, for the most part they omit it, as if
chance were fitter to bee registered than obseruation.

                                                           LORD VERULAM.

                               _LONDON_:
            PUBLISHED BY MESSRS. BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY,
                            PATERNOSTER ROW;
                    AND L. B. SEELEY, FLEET STREET.
                                 1816.

S. GOSNELL, Printer, Little Queen Street, London.




                                CONTENTS
                                   OF
                           THE SECOND VOLUME.


                                LETTER I.
 _Favorable tidings from Grenada and St. Vincent. An enormous
   snake. Conversation respecting mermaids_                       Page 1


                               LETTER II.
 _Excursion to Mynheer Roboloski’s plantation Zuidwyk. Character
   of Mynheer Roboloski. Funeral obsequies of an officer.
   Depressing effect of such mournful exhibitions_                     5


                               LETTER III.
 _Discordant opinions and mode of treatment relative to “yellow
   fever.” Undeviating routine followed by the resident
   practitioners. General remarks respecting a medical life:—its
   peculiar advantages_                                               13


                               LETTER IV.
 _Dutch method of punishing soldiers for drunkenness. An
   electrical eel. Visit of a wild-looking party of Indians. The
   lion-monkey, or schacomynghy. Singular instance of creole
   pride. Birth-day visit at Mr. Blair’s. Author’s uncertain
   situation_                                                         22


                                LETTER V.
 _Author’s return to Demarara. Alarming sickness of the troops.
   Its probable causes_                                               34


                               LETTER VI.
 _Authors removal to Mahaica. Afflicting sickness at that
   station:—severe professional duties. Situation of Mahaica.
   Scarcity of fresh provisions_                                      37


                               LETTER VII.
 _Horrid cruelty towards a negro and his wife. Funeral of a
   murdered slave. Dismay of the murderer. Cruel unconcern of the
   attorney. Sad consequences of such inhuman treatment_              45


                              LETTER VIII.
 _Sickness of the troops and medical officers at Mahaica. The
   author officiates as priest. Decease of Captain Heritage.
   Consultations with the colonial medical practitioners. The
   trade-wind termed the Doctor. Remarks of “Doctor Bob.”
   Contemplations of the author on his critical situation.
   Prophylactic experiment_                                           55


                               LETTER IX.
 _Brilliant appearance of a forest on fire. Visit to Mynheer
   Bercheych. Description of his person; manners; habits, &c._        63


                                LETTER X.
 _Continued suspense of the author. Fever still rages:—persons
   chiefly affected. Case of Chapman, a grenadier. A gratifying
   assemblage of convalescents. Audacity of the people of colour
   at Mahaica_                                                        79


                               LETTER XI.
 _Return of the author to La Bourgade. Altered type of the
   fever:—its interchanges. Peculiar fatality among the surgical
   cases. Loss of a medical assistant. Demarara Gazette_              88


                               LETTER XII.
 _The author attacked with yellow fever. Detail of the symptoms
   of his case, and the means employed for his recovery_              96


                              LETTER XIII.
 _Kind solicitude of the colonists towards the author. Apparent
   influence of the tides on fever. Illness and recovery of Mr.
   Blackader. Gratifying diminution of disease at Mahaica.
   Striking examples of the character of slaves_                     108


                               LETTER XIV.
 _Interesting situation of the troops. Reinforcement of medical
   officers from Martinique. Mr. Jordan attacked with fever.
   Pleasing anticipations of a return to England. Ravages of
   yellow fever in the islands. Death of Colonel Gammell and of
   four of the physicians of the windward expedition. Happy
   effects of the dry season. Range of the thermometer at La
   Bourgade. Gang of negroes commanded by a female driver.
   Ludicrous mistake of an English lady_                             115


                               LETTER XV.
 _Author receives communications from England. Afflicting reports
   from St. Domingo. Apparent instances of the influence of the
   tides on fever. Remarks on abuses in army economy. Depraved
   advice concerning conscience_                                     124


                               LETTER XVI.
 _Ludicrous scene of drilling a corps of negroes. Slavery
   contrasted with military discipline. Altered appearance of the
   yellow fever. Fatality of wounds and ulcers among Europeans.
   Extraordinary recovery of a negro. West India custom regarding
   women of colour. The wet season_                                  127


                              LETTER XVII.
 _Christmas festivities. Orange season. Christmas temperature.
   Cruel treatment of a mulatto by a Dutchman. A striking case of
   intermittent fever. Slight effect of grief and dangers upon
   military men_                                                     140


                              LETTER XVIII.
 _Renewed visit to M. Bercheych. The ant-eater. Peculiar nests of
   birds and ants. Visit of M. Bercheych at Fort St. Andrew:—of a
   party of Indians_                                                 146


                               LETTER XIX.
 _Decease and funeral of Mr. Newland. Dutch prejudice in favour
   of usage. Effect of fresh provisions upon the sick_               154


                               LETTER XX.
 _Mr. Beete’s case of fever:—its coincidence with the
   spring-tides. Festivities on the Queen’s birth-day. Excessive
   dancing of the ladies. A Dutch lady’s supper. Foreign custom
   of carrying away provisions. Happy reduction of the sick list_    158


                               LETTER XXI.
 _Essequibo attacked by the Spaniards. Opinion of slaves
   respecting freedom:—respecting crimes and punishments.
   Repeated attack of yellow fever upon the same person. Creole
   officers less efficient than European_                            165


                              LETTER XXII.
 _Gratitude of a slave. Extravagant hire of mechanics. Pleasant
   approach of the dry season. Absence of morning lassitude.
   Effect of climate on Europeans_                                   173


                              LETTER XXIII.
 _Excursion of a party of planters up the river Demarara.
   Kamonuy—Woratilla—and Mabeira creeks. Peculiar stillness of
   the forest. Arrival of the party at Mr. Edmonstone’s solitary
   abode_                                                            178


                              LETTER XXIV.
 _A wood-walk from Mr. Edmonstone’s. Hasty removal of an Indian
   family. Eccentric character of an aged Scotsman. Journey
   through the forest to the Sand-hill. Scenery—temperature—and
   inhospitality at the “Sand-hill” estate_                          187


                               LETTER XXV.
 _The “Loo” estate, contrasted with the “Sand-hill.” A
   petit-maître in the forest. A wood-cutter’s cottage. A novel
   specimen of the labour of slaves. Improved scenery. Character
   and habits of Pezano, an old Spaniard. Arrival and reception
   of the party at “Ooest Vriesland”_                                196


                              LETTER XXVI.
 _Journey from “Ooest Vriesland” to “the falls:”—the latter
   described. Memorandum of the excursion. Surprise of the
   slaves. Return of the party. Temperature at Ooest Vriesland.
   Laba pepper-pot. Severe, but cheerful labour of the slaves.
   Excessive cold at the “Loo.” The Cockswain’s address in urging
   on the slaves_                                                    208


                              LETTER XXVII.
 _“Garden-Eden” plantation. Account of an extraordinary mulatto.
   Arrival of the party at Stabroek. General remarks concerning
   the excursion_                                                    218


                             LETTER XXVIII.
 _The author loses his horse:—is ordered to St. Domingo. Unhappy
   tidings from thence. Reflections upon the subject_                232


                              LETTER XXIX.
 _The Stadtholder’s birth-day. Conduct of a soi-disant patriot.
   Tedious voyage of the “Cotton-planter.” Account of a white
   negro:—of a piebald negress_                                      235


                               LETTER XXX.
 _Anecdotes of “Princess Changuion.” March, a healthy period.
   Arrival of hospital stores. Observations on the new
   regulations for surgeons:—on the confused titles of medical
   officers_                                                         245


                              LETTER XXXI.
 _Reflections on the anniversary of the author’s arrival in
   Guiana. Remarks upon the rainy season. Dr. E’s observations
   concerning fever. “Lusignan” plantation:—its prolific garden_     252


                              LETTER XXXII.
 _General observations concerning Demarara_                          258


                             LETTER XXXIII.
 _Indian specimens shipped for London. Importance of Government
   rations. Novel scene of slavery. Unhappy report of the
   surgical invalids. Indications of the return of the wet
   season_                                                           282


                              LETTER XXXIV.
 _Author’s farewell from Guiana:—he anticipates many
   gratifications at St. Domingo:—promises to continue his
   “Notes”_                                                          287


                              LETTER XXXV.
 _Authors voyage to Martinique. View of St. Vincent and St.
   Lucie. Coasting view of Martinique. Beautiful approach to St.
   Pierre. Description of the town—its population—its
   accommodations_                                                   289


                              LETTER XXXVI.
 _Demarara hospital reports approved at head-quarters. Fort Royal
   and its harbour. Mode of travelling between St. Pierre and
   Fort Royal. Military hospital, “La Charité.” Remarks on fever.
   Mortality among the medical officers_                             300


                             LETTER XXXVII.
 _Martinique returns, not a just criterion, respecting disease.
   Account of Martinique—its scenery—temperature—female
   population. French vivacity not confined to Europe.
   Guadaloupe, the Circassia of the West Indies. Visit to
   Chasse-pilote. Funeral of a child of colour:—of a white
   Catholic. Sale of Negroes. Conduct of a party of captured
   slaves. Martinique theatre_                                       307


                             LETTER XXXVIII.
 _Supposed indications of peace. Visit to Mr. Dornford’s country
   residence. Père Edouard—his treatment of fever—his remarks on
   English practitioners. Birth-day ball. Contrast between French
   and English females. A supper scene. Martinique contrasted
   with the colonies of Guiana. French treatment and punishment
   of slaves. Importance of the distinction of colour with regard
   to slavery. Cruel punishment of a negro, by a Dutchman_           318


                              LETTER XXXIX.
 _Wet season at Martinique. Musquitoes. Ceremony of La Fête de
   Dieu_                                                             336


                               LETTER XL.
 _French frivolity. Decease of Mr. Dornford_                         346


                               LETTER XLI.
 _Author detained at Martinique. Character of slaves. Example of
   tyranny in a woman of colour. Mode of feeding mules. Frogs
   exposed for sale. Noyeau. Remuneration of medical
   practitioners_                                                    353


                              LETTER XLII.
 _Author embarks for Jamaica. Anticipation the only comfort at
   sea. The packet chased by a privateer. Ludicrous conduct of
   the passengers. View of Jamaica. Arrival at Port-Royal:—its
   extreme heat. Kingston. Appearance of the people of colour.
   Example of negro-labour_                                          363


                              LETTER XLIII.
 _Visit to Spanish town. The road—scenery—traffic. Friendly
   attention of Dr. Lind. Spanish town and environs. Prevalence
   of Spanish costume. Villas and “pens.” English aspect of
   Kingston Common. Temperature of Kingston—Fruits plentiful and
   delicious. Turtle:—use of their shells. Tavern
   accommodations:—lodgings. Contending opinions concerning
   fever_                                                            373


                              LETTER XLIV.
 _Author embarks for St. Domingo. Interesting visit at
   Port-Royal. A midnight visit at sea. A distressing calm. The
   extreme of tropical temperature. The sloop chased by a
   privateer. View of Cuba:—of Cape St. Nicholas. Adventurous
   boat excursion to the Mole_                                       384


                               LETTER XLV.
 _Grief and disappointments of the author on arriving at St.
   Domingo. He prepares to proceed to Port au Prince. The Mole
   and its environs. Quarters and mess of the hospital staff.
   Occasional scarcity of fresh provisions. A sandy valley
   converted into a prolific garden_                                 394


                              LETTER XLVI.
 _Voyage to Port au Prince. Inspection of convalescents. Peter
   Porcupine’s works. Unblushing confidence of French females.
   Remarks on the women of colour of Cape François and Port au
   Prince. Daring attacks of the brigands. Hostile out-posts
   viewed from the sea. Author’s observations on his
   arrival:—waits upon the Commander in chief_                       401


                              LETTER XLVII.
 _A morning scene at Port au Prince. Dr. Jackson:—his friendly
   attention to the author:—his dwelling:—his mode of life:—his
   opinion concerning fever. New arrangements of the hospital
   department:—objections against it. Sequels of the fever, and
   heat of climate. Opinions of the medical officers at Port au
   Prince, concerning the yellow fever. Comparative effect of the
   fever upon a party of artillery-men—and the crew of the ship
   Bangalore_                                                        411


                             LETTER XLVIII.
 _Temperature in different colonies. Example of the effect of
   heat upon the author. Influenza at St. Domingo. Remarks upon
   the site chosen for towns. Supply of water at Port au Prince.
   Use of horses and mules for labour. Scarcity of carriages,
   “pens,” villas, &c. French passion for gaming, dress, and
   dancing. Vauxhall, at Port au Prince_                             419


                              LETTER XLIX.
 _Situation and construction of Port au Prince:—government-house.
   Bathing in the French colonies. Superiority of the capital and
   of the females of colour at Martinique. Rude custom of the
   French at the table d’hôte. Provisions at Port au
   Prince—dinner—breakfast. The avaga pear_                          428


                                LETTER L.
 _Military expedition from Port au Prince. The Croix des
   Bouquets. The plain of the Cul de Sac. Example of the effect
   of the French levelling decree_                                   434


                               LETTER LI.
 _Voyage to the Mole. Embarkation occurrences. Shameful system of
   plunder. The French women of colour. Singular liberality of
   John Bull. Audacity of the brigands:—expedition of the Lively
   sloop against them_                                               439


                               LETTER LII.
 _Cases of yellow fever at sea. Action of the Pelican brig with a
   French privateer. Liberal accommodations of the naval
   hospital. Use of turtles for the sick. Sterile appearance of
   the Mole. Author’s intended visit to the United States_           447


                              LETTER LIII.
 _A summary account of the slaves, and state of slavery in the
   West India colonies_                                              454


                               LETTER LIV.
 _General observations on the seasoning, or yellow fever of hot
   climates_                                                         467


                               LETTER LV.
 _A brief account of the former and present state of St. Domingo_    492


                                APPENDIX.
 _A proposal for the emancipation of the slaves in the British
   settlements in the West Indies_                                   525




                                 NOTES

                                 _&c._




                               LETTER I.


                                                   Berbische, July 1796.

I am too sensible, my friend, that in my noting communication regarding
our late excursion, I was led into minutiæ, which might be more tedious
than entertaining: but as my pen was my companion in the deep woods, and
as I thought to you, while marking each circumstance on the spot, where
it occurred, I knew not what part to suppress, and therefore hazarded a
severe trial of your patience by imposing upon you the task of perusing
the whole; yet not without a hope that, as the mode of travelling, and
every thing connecting with the journey, differed, totâ facie, from what
is common in Europe, the novelty might in some measure compensate the
wearisome narration.

You will readily conceive the avidity with which our comrades demanded
an account of our proceedings. They crowded round us upon our arrival,
besieging us with vollies of interrogatories, and eagerly listening to
our recitals. Every one had something new to ask, and from the varied
forms of nearly similar questions, the two or three first days were
mostly spent in repeating the details of our excursion.

We were equally solicitous to learn the news from the Islands, and from
England, but were disappointed in all our inquiries, no intelligence
having reached the colony during our absence. Since our return a vessel
has arrived from Barbadoes, with the happy tidings that our troops have
subdued the brigands and the Charibs of Grenada and St. Vincent, and
that these islands are restored to order and tranquillity.

I should not omit telling you that I had an opportunity a few days since
of seeing one of the race of enormous snakes, which you read of as
infesting these colonies. It was killed near the town of New Amsterdam,
was twelve feet long, and about the thickness of a man’s thigh. To the
Europeans who were present, it appeared a very large and hideous
reptile; but neither the colonists, nor the negroes considered it of
extraordinary size, for we learn that they are sometimes seen more than
twice as large, and upwards of thirty feet in length.

I wish I could relate to you a conversation which I heard at the
governor’s lately on the subject of mermaids. It was maintained that
these lady-like animals, of fabulous note, do really exist in the
Berbische river, and I experienced some surprise, when I heard the
governor, who is a sensible and intelligent man, give his sanction to
the opinion. Often (it was insisted) _very_ often had they been seen;
and on my asking the gentlemen who advanced the assertion, if it was by
their own eyes, they replied, “No! but repeatedly by Indians, by
negroes, and by whites;” and they seemed to think it established beyond
a doubt, that these scaly _poissardes_ did actually inhabit the waters
of this country. One of them, it was said, had been taken alive, by an
Indian, who was carrying it to Savonette as a present to M. Heynemann;
but from the prejudices of his nation, whose superstition protects these
animals, the man was compelled, by others of the Indians, to return her
to the river, lest the enraged mother should haunt them with every
species of ill.

A planter who was present, observing that the officers were still
unconfirmed in their faith, added a species of testimony which he seemed
to think even the most incredulous could not resist. “Nothing,” said he,
“is more certain than that mermaids do exist in the rivers of Guiana,
for I know a navy officer who has not only seen them alive, but who
actually ate of one, which had been cooked and served up for the table.”
This he considered as “confirmation strong;” but as neither this
gentleman nor any of the others had seen or eaten of these fish-ladies
themselves, however it might border upon a breach of politeness, it was
no contradiction of the assertions made by them, not to be convinced by
the same reports, which had confirmed their belief: we therefore
continue ... to doubt!




                               LETTER II.


                                                     Berbische, July 12.

You will be surprised to hear of my having already made another river
excursion; but I before mentioned to you that we had intended visiting
the estate of Mynheer Roboloski, on our return from M. Heynemann’s: not
being able to effect it then, and afterwards receiving a pressing
renewal of the invitation by some friends of M. Roboloski, who came to
pass a day with the officers at the fort, I availed myself of the
opportunity of returning with these gentlemen, in company with Captain
Maxwell. We dined on our way, at the plantation Zuidwyk; one of the most
pleasant and improved spots on the bank of the river. M. Linde, the
gentleman we went to see, was indisposed, but he was inspired with
health on seeing a party of unexpected visitors, and entertained us with
all the glad welcome of the colony, most cordially inviting us to
prolong our visit.

Zuidwyk is a coffee plantation. It is well cultivated, and rich in
fruits. The house is spacious, and, standing at a pleasant distance from
the river, with the ground ornamented and improved, it not only appears
respectable, but conveys the idea of importance.

We were most gladly received by M. Roboloski, who, in his attentions
towards us, seemed anxious to rival all the friendly hospitality we had
experienced. Every mark of distinction and respect was conferred upon
us, and a liberal supply of all the best things of the house and estate
was served for our entertainment. When we were at table, slaves were
placed at our elbows to wave lime-boughs, in order to defend us from the
insects; and, in the evening, we were set down to cards with two or
three negroes burning lime-sprigs around us, while others were placed
with green branches to chase away the musquitoes, as well as to serve us
with copious libations from an adjoining table, which was spread with
wine, punch, sangaree, and various rich liqueurs. At going to bed, and
at rising, slaves attended us with water for our feet, and were strictly
enjoined to kneel down, and wash them: nor were we suffered to encounter
_the fatigue_ of stooping, or permitted to wet our hands in so humble an
office.

It happened that I expressed a desire to make the tour of the estate, in
order to observe its extent and cultivation. The wish scarcely had
utterance before orders were given for the favorite horse of M.
Roboloski to be brought to the door. I had intended myself a pedestrian
ramble, but was not permitted to engage in such “excessive fatigue.” Old
grey was quickly led out, and appeared before the window; when the
process of putting on the best saddle, “for Mynheer,” and arranging the
gay trappings became the business of no less than six slaves, and
occupied them for nearly an hour and a half, forming a truly diverting
and ludicrous scene. The head, the neck, each side, and the very tail of
the animal had its appropriate negro. The bridle, the crupper, the
girths and stirrups, each occupied a separate slave, all hurrying in the
full bustle of attentive exertion. At length the ponderous saddle was
miserably fixed, and, without attempting to instruct the master or
correct the slaves, I mounted upon _the neck_ of old grey, and soberly
trotted round the plantation. At every angle or turning I met with a
fresh slave who had been stationed there in readiness to run after my
horse, and to direct and attend me whithersoever I might wish to bend my
way: but as neither old grey nor myself, were inclined to advance with
great speed, all my running footmen were able to keep pace with me, so
that before I had completed my journey, I had collected quite a host of
attendants, and found myself moving amidst a naked and numerous throng.

Together with a natural sprightliness, and vivacity of temper, M.
Roboloski is generous and hospitable to an extreme. All that was rare
was presented to us while we remained; besides which, numberless
offerings were heaped upon us at our departure, and he would have given
us more than we could carry away. The whole produce of his house and
estate: all he had, his _Wowski_ excepted, was at our command. On
leaving him he loaded us with fruits, pickles, Tonquin beans, and other
good things; and it was with difficulty that we prevented him from
depriving himself of even the comforts of his home for our
accommodation. Towards his slaves he is extremely rigid, and holds them
in very strict subjection; but, with the many good qualities he
possesses, it cannot be suspected that cruelty has any share in his
government. Unhappily, with the most liberal and generous nature, he has
an unfortunate disposition which torments him with all the harrowing
pangs of a dark and imbittering passion. Kind and attentive as he is
both to his friends and to strangers, he knows neither peace, nor
comfort, whilst they are in the house, from his mind being incessantly
tortured with the dread suspicion that a disgusting black woman, whom he
keeps as his wife, may be seized with a fit of inconstancy, and share
her joys with others. He, therefore, locks her up stairs while his
visitors are with him, and keeps the key of the door in his pocket. To
such excess, indeed, does he carry his jealousy, as to employ a young
slave in the house, for the express purpose of watching the poor hideous
woman’s conduct, and reporting to him every look and action.

The day after our return from M. Roboloski’s, we witnessed one of the
great and awful scenes of a West India climate—one of those convulsions
of the weather, which convey the idea of enraged elements warring to
reduce all nature again to chaos. It is not easy for any one, who is
acquainted only with the soft breezes and showers of Europe, to conceive
the terrific grandeur which is sometimes exhibited by a storm within the
tropics.

Another very grand, but awful and afflicting scene has occurred to our
notice in the funeral obsequies of one of our comrades; an officer of
artillery, who had suffered an attack of yellow fever, and from exposing
himself to fatigue and late hours during his convalescence, brought on a
relapse which quickly deprived his country of his services, and us of
his society. Warlike honors were done to his remains. The funeral was
conducted with all the splendid and heart-moving parade of a military
procession; which forms one of the most awful ceremonies that the eye or
imagination can contemplate; but under the circumstances of our present
situation it is too solemnly impressive to be practised without the risk
of injury; for I have had occasion to remark that, in its effects, it
threatens ills beyond the wholesome grief of the moment. The
associations arising from the gloomy spectacle operate so powerfully
upon the minds of those who are fearful of disease, as to endanger
serious illness. The slow march, with the arms of war inverted; the
doleful music; the sable hollow-sounding drum; and the thrice-vollied
farewell, added to the common rites of sepulture, augment the
distressful feelings natural to the occasion, and beget a degree of
melancholy which not only sinks the soul with grief, but reduces the
body within the pale of disease; and hence, although it be a grand and
honorable observance, which may be attended with beneficial effects at
certain times, or under certain circumstances, it would appear to be too
dispiriting to be indiscriminately exhibited on service, particularly in
a climate where the body is highly predisposed to sickness, and the mind
held in a state of depression from the sudden and multiplied ravages of
disease; and where the sense of honor which attaches to the ceremony is
more than counterbalanced by the sad impression that the person who
views it may, in the course of only a few hours, be himself the
unconscious object of similar parade.

Two of the officers who attended the funeral, although as brave men as
ever unsheathed a sword, were thrown into a state of despondency which
nearly cost them their lives. Overwhelmed with grief for the fate of
their comrade, and fearfully apprehensive of disease, the afflicting
ceremony produced a degree of depression from which they had no power of
rallying. All their military spirit, and manly firmness were subdued,
and under the weight of inconsolable sadness, they were rapidly sinking
into a state of sickness, from which they felt hopeless of recovery. One
of them, who with the spirit of the lion, possesses the heart of a lamb,
being wholly unable to suppress the overflowings of his sorrow, was seen
day by day to shed tears, like an infant. Change of place became
necessary to their relief; they were accordingly permitted to quit the
fort for a time, and happily by diversity of scene, and absence from the
grief-exciting spot, the dangers which threatened them were averted, and
their usual health and spirits restored.

The wet season is now declining, and we are led to look for much
increase of sickness during the subsequent months.

Not to fatigue you with a minute detail of the appearances, on the
examination of our lost comrade, I may briefly observe that in the
stomach they have hitherto been uniform, but in the other viscera very
uncertain and dissimilar. With respect to the symptoms of the disorder,
we now discover much instability. Either vomiting, low delirium,
singultus, or coma, with or without yellowness of the skin, forms the
prominent feature—each in its turn seeming to give the character of a
distinct disease; but all terminating, within a few days, in the usual
manner.




                              LETTER III.


                                                        Berbische, July.

The unhappy loss of our comrade, mentioned to you in my last letter, has
been productive of much discussion on the subject of yellow fever. The
governor is fond of reading medical books, and feels a strong interest
regarding the diseases of the troops, and the maladies arising from the
climate. He takes great pleasure in bringing professional men together,
and in promoting medical conversations. Gladly I avail myself of the
advantages to be derived from this propensity, and through the means of
Mynheer Van Battenburg have frequent opportunities of hearing the
remarks and opinions of the most eminent practitioners in the colony;
but I find that they have established one undeviating routine of
treatment. Emetics and the bark are prescribed in all cases of fever;
and they insist upon the peculiar efficacy of these remedies in that
species or degree commonly called “yellow fever.” This doctrine, so
generally and positively asserted by the professional residents, is in
direct opposition to the experience of the medical officers of our army,
who, in this disease, have constantly found emetics injurious, and bark,
in the early stages, useless. I have been at much pains therefore to
reconcile the observations with fact; and as the opinions respecting the
remedies were so directly at variance, I was anxious to satisfy myself
with regard to the identity of the disease; hence, in order to
ascertain, correctly, whether we were treating the same complaint, I
requested several of the medical men of the colony to visit the patients
in the military hospital; and begged of them to allow me to see some of
the sick inhabitants of the town. This proposal being accepted, the
cause of the difference of opinion, and of treatment soon became
obvious; for it was ascertained that while we were contending with the
_continued_ fever of Europeans but lately arrived, they were prescribing
for the _remittent_ fever of the colonists. They candidly admitted that
the disease in the hospital differed from the fever which they commonly
treated; and one of the most eminent of them, who had been, during
twelve years, in busy employment in the colony, acknowledged that, in
the whole course of his practice, he had met with only _five cases_ of
what he now termed “_genuine yellow fever_.”

One of the persons whom I had the opportunity of visiting was the
patient of Dr. S. who now discovered that he had seen only five cases of
yellow fever within the period of a dozen years. I found that he was
treating this gentleman with bark, per os atque per anum, without
assisting it with opium, wine, or any of the other stimulants, or
aromatics usually employed: but it was evidently a case of the remittent
fever of the country. The patient, who was very dangerously ill, happily
recovered, and notwithstanding my own opinion that he might have been
cured with more facility, by a smaller quantity of the bark, if it had
been combined with opium, wine, or the like, still I was indebted to the
doctor for the opportunity which this case afforded me of witnessing the
very ample and persevering adhibition of this valuable remedy by the
Dutch practitioners.

One of the colonial doctors who visited our late comrade, during his
short illness, termed his disease a “pituitous fever;” but still he
recommended emetics and bark as the cure. If these remedies were as
extensively useful, as might be inferred from the opinions of the
gentlemen practising in this colony, the crowded contents of our
medicine-chests might be conveniently reduced to two simple packages of
bark and emetic tartar! Probably the patients who come under the care of
these practitioners are, for the most part, creoles, or persons who have
become creolised, in whom the disease usually assumes the remittent
type, and who very seldom, if ever, have it in the aggravated form which
constitutes the yellow fever.

While I am upon the subject of medicine you will forgive me if I should
extend this letter by offering you a few remarks respecting a medical
life. You are not unacquainted with the many inconveniences and
afflictions which attach to the practice of the profession, and you will
be pleased to know that these are in some measure counterbalanced by
peculiar and exclusive advantages. Medical men are commonly regarded as
persons of social habits and sentiments. Often they are viewed as a
privileged race, and the term _doctor_ serves as a general passport,
insuring a degree of affability, and freedom of intercourse. Not
unfrequently they are indebted to it for friendly civilities, to which
they could have no sort of personal claim, and, on account of it, they
sometimes experience a more distinguished attention than falls to the
lot of others.

A medical man is made to feel himself at home in every house. He is
scarcely admitted as a stranger, before he is considered as a kind of
confidential acquaintance, and received, as it were, into the bosom of
the family. Wheresoever fortune may place him, he is never out of the
line of his profession; and it is peculiarly in his power, at all times
and in all situations, to contribute to the comfort or relief of his
fellow-beings. Like the word _brother_ in masonry, the term _doctor_
conveys an idea of universal friendship and philanthropy. Even as the
brotherhood of the trowel, too, ours is a wide and ancient fraternity,
and we, like them, soon become known to each other. We also seek those
of our own order, and associate in cordial fellowship wherever we meet.
Moreover, if general benevolence and the good of mankind be their
object, so is it equally ours; and to continue the similitude, perhaps
you will say that, like theirs, our signs and forms are concealed and
private. But let us not pursue the parallel, lest we betray secrets,
never to be revealed.

In the West Indies, and particularly on service with the army, the
medical officers are found to have many advantages; for, in every ship,
with every regiment, and almost at every plantation, they find a
professional brother who in the most friendly way promotes their
comfort, and kindly seeks to procure them accommodation. On this head I
speak with much satisfaction, being able, from personal experience, to
bear testimony to a general spirit of amity, and an uniform practice of
good offices, on the part of my brethren.

At most of the West India plantations some member of our fraternity is
either resident, or in occasional attendance, as the physician, surgeon,
and intimate friend of the household. He is usually a person of
influence, and whenever a medical officer of the army visits the estate,
_the doctor_, interesting himself for his professional brother, quickly
makes him acquainted with the family, and procures him all the
facilities of social intercourse. This I have many times experienced;
and, by means of the medical attendant, have not unfrequently been
regarded as the _friend_ of the house, before my military comrades had
ceased to be considered as _strangers_!

These may appear only as trifles to you, who daily indulge amidst the
luxuries of England, and can hourly command the supplies and
conveniences of all-prolific London; but they, who have known the hard
lot of privation, will tell you that these little circumstances are
often very important on service, particularly to those who are employed
on distant and foreign stations.

Many other privileges might be enumerated as peculiar to medical men, or
attaching to their professional occupation, some even amidst the bloody
strife of war; for although balls and bullets show no distinction in the
field, still, not his friends only, but the enemy likewise inclines to
protect, rather than to injure the _doctor_, for his is a kind and
tender duty, and extends alike to all. It belongs not to him to
discriminate. The _effect_ of the battle alone concerns him: he has
nothing to do with the cause! If a suffering object appear, it is no
question whether he be a friend or a foe: he languishes, and is
therefore entitled to his care; for it is his to stop the gushing
streams of life, and to pour a healing balm into the wounds of afflicted
humanity, in whatever breast she bleed.

In his command a medical man is absolute, and without control. Indeed
nothing can be more arbitrary than medical government. The doctor is
even more despotic than the mightiest chief. Passive obedience is his
first law: he dictates in positive terms, and exacts the most rigid
submission. Nor will this seem unreasonable, when it is recollected that
the general’s authority regards only life, while the doctor’s concerns
both life, and, ... still more important, health!

Perhaps you will pardon my pen in proceeding one step further, to notice
the very highest gratification and best reward of a medical life: in
comparison of which all the honors, privileges, and advantages above
alluded to, are light as the dying breeze. It may be remarked that the
duties of a medical man are arduous and important beyond all other
occupations. Constant fatigue and anxiety are his lot. The health of
others is his care; and he is often intrusted with the lives and
happiness of those united by the nearest and dearest ties. Unbounded
confidence is reposed in him, and if his anxious exertions are crowned
with success, he is hailed as saviour, father, and friend! His time is
at the public command. Not a moment is securely his own: daily and
hourly he is called upon to witness the most heart-rending scenes of
affliction, and it is his peculiar lot to be sought only in the hour of
danger; whence his whole life is spent in the house of woe. But, happily
for the humane and zealous mind, even these duties have their reward. On
service, if a soldier or a sailor be relieved, gratitude attaches him to
his doctor’s interest, and he is ever afterwards secure of his aid and
protection. He will fight in his defence, and expose himself to every
danger for his safety. But it is in private life, and in the more
retired paths of the profession, that the feeling heart meets its
genuine return: for to relieve a suffering object from distress—to check
the sad ravages of disease—to restore an affectionate and beloved
parent, or a duteous child from the bed of sickness, and thereby to
dispel the cloud of sorrow, or wipe away the tear of affliction; and
then to receive the heart-felt thanks and blessings of a grateful
family, is a consolation which none but medical men can know! This it is
that reconciles the anxious toils of the profession:—that forms the high
compensation of our labours; and the happiest reward of our cares!




                               LETTER IV.


                                                     Berbische, July 22.

Without the opportunity of knowing whether my frequent notes have
already provoked your repentance, my pen continues to direct to you its
offerings.

I have been lately on a visit to the governor at New Amsterdam, and had
there an opportunity of witnessing the Dutch mode of punishing soldiers
for drunkenness; which is by making them run the gauntlet between two
ranks of their comrades, so placed as for each to give the offender a
stripe upon his bare back, every time that he passes. The punishment was
conducted in the following manner: a party of about forty of the
soldiers, with fixed bayonets, were drawn out upon parade, in open rank,
and standing front to front, forming a kind of alley closed at each end.
With-inside, between the ranks, were stationed the drum-major, and the
prisoner, the latter stripped of his coat, waistcoat, and shirt, and
with his hands tied before him. On a signal being given by beat of drum,
its major, dignified with bearing a majestic staff in his hand,
commenced his parade, in slow march, up and down the alley, the prisoner
closely following behind, who received a stripe from each of the
soldiers, with a fresh-gathered twig, every time that he went and
returned. Several drum-boys were placed at the outside of the ranks with
small bundles of sticks, in order to renew the supply, when any one
chanced to break. Non-commissioned officers were also stationed at the
back of the ranks provided with canes, for the purpose of transferring
any stripes to the soldiers which they might neglect to give to the
prisoner, or to place upon their own shoulders any deficiencies which
might arise from their not exerting a due strength of arm.

In this manner was the man marched and flogged, flogged and marched, up
and down, at the heel of the drum-major, until he had received many
hundreds of lashes, and his bruised back exhibited one frightfully black
surface, from his neck down to the waistband of his breeches. No blood
was spilt, nor perhaps was the pain quite so acute as it commonly is
from our cat o’ nine tails; but the sadly beaten skin, swoln with
blackness, was not less distressing to the sight than a more
blood-stained wound, and possibly even more difficult of cure. Several
drums were beat in loud roll during the whole time of the punishment,
which served to drown the cries of the sufferer, while it increased the
military parade of the scene.

It was somewhat remarkable that, at the very moment of this
chastisement, one of our own soldiers came reeling along in drunken
gambols, tumbling against the very ranks employed to inflict the penalty
of his own crime. On seeing what they were doing, he stammered out in
broken accent, “That’s right, _camarades_; give it him; lay it on, boys;
make him smart for it; a drunken _Yaa—well!_ cut close; lay it in deep;
make him remember it, a drunken Dutch dog!” He was not aware how soon it
was likely to be laid much _deeper_ into his own back. The captain of
his company happened to be present, and immediately ordered him into
confinement in the guard-house, preparatory to being led forth, at a
more sober moment, to a severer punishment, perhaps, than that which had
so amused him in his cups.

The Governor has a large electric eel, which he has kept for several
years in a tub, made for that purpose, placed under a small shed near to
the house. This fish possesses strong electrical powers, and often
causes scenes of diversion among the soldiers and sailors, who are
struck with astonishment at its qualities, and believe it to be in
league with some evil spirit. Two sailors, wholly unacquainted with the
properties of the animal, were one day told to fetch an eel, which was
lying in the tub in the yard, and give it the cook to dress for dinner.
It is a strong fish of seven or eight pounds weight, and gives a severe
shock on being touched, particularly if at all irritated or enraged. The
sailors had no sooner reached the shed, than one of them plunged his
hand to the bottom of the tub to seize the eel; when he received a blow
which benumbed his whole arm: without knowing what it was, he started
from the tub shaking his fingers, and holding his elbow with his other
hand, crying out, “Damme, Jack, what a thump he fetched me with his
tail!” His messmate laughing at “such a foolish notion,” next put down
his hand to reach out the eel, but receiving a similar shock, he snapped
his fingers likewise, and ran off crying out, “Damme, he did give you a
thump! He’s a fighting fellow: he has fetched me a broadside too! Let’s
both have a haul at him together, Jack, then we shall board his d——d
slippery carcass, spite of his rudder.” Accordingly they each plunged
their hands into the tub, and seized the fish, by a full grasp round the
body. This was rougher treatment than he commonly experienced, and he
returned it with a most violent shock, which soon caused them to quit
their hold. For a moment they stood aghast, then rubbing their arms,
holding their elbows, and shaking their fingers, they capered about with
pain and amazement, swearing that their arms were broken, and that it
was the devil in the tub in the shape of an eel. They now perceived that
it was not a simple blow of the tail, which they had felt before; nor
could they be prevailed upon to try again to take out the fish, but
stole away rubbing their elbows, and cursing “the trick about the cook
and the eel.”

You have, no doubt, seen drawings of this fish, and have met with
preparations of it in the different museums and collections of the
curious. Its form is not so round as that of the common eel. The head is
flatter, as is likewise the tail, and much broader; the sides are less
convex and deeper; the back is wide, and the body tapers down somewhat
abruptly, terminating at the belly in a thin membrane, forming a kind of
fin. I have preserved the skin of one, which I hope to show you in
England at the end of the war. The shock communicated is sometimes very
powerful, and precisely resembles that from the electrical machine. I
have received it both from contact, and by means of conductors. The fish
at Governor Van Battenburg’s once gave me a severe blow from touching
it, in the water, with the end of a polished ramrod belonging to one of
the soldiers’ firelocks.

We were, yesterday, visited at the fort by a party of the
wildest-looking Indians I have yet seen. Sixteen came down the river in
one canoe, forming an unusually fierce and romantic group. The men had
their skins painted in various odd figures, some with red, others with
black and red; and some had a thin small plate of silver, hung by way of
ornament from the nose. A custom also prevailed among the women of this
party, which we had not before observed. They wore in their ears thick
pieces of wood, of the size and shape of a common wine-bottle cork, not
suspended to the part, nor hanging by a ring, but pushed through a large
hole, cut in the substance of the ear itself.

This party was less cordial with us, than many who had preceded them.
They also made their visit shorter. We procured from them some Indian
baskets, and some bows and arrows. I had likewise an opportunity of
purchasing a small lion-monkey, called _Schacomynghy_, to supply the
place of a most beautiful one which I had brought down the river, from
the Indian village near Savonette, and which had lately died.

The Schacomynghy is a very handsome playful little fellow. He is the
smallest of the monkey tribe, being considerably less than the common
squirrel of England, and in weight not more than five or six ounces. He
perches very commodiously upon a person’s fore-finger; or will run up
the side of a quart bottle and take his seat very conveniently at the
top, amusing himself with putting down his little hand to taste the wine
or water, or whatever may be contained within. His colour is nearly
black, with sometimes a slight mixture of dark grey: the tail is longer
than his body. His neck is covered with thick, long, and bushy hair,
like the full mane of the lion, whence the name of _lion-monkey_, by
which he is commonly known. His face is oval, approaching to circular,
and his features are less disgusting than is usual among the monkey
tribe; the ears are smooth and round, and without hair. He is a very
delicate animal, and extremely susceptible of cold; even in this climate
he will creep into the folds of the bedclothes, or with-inside the bed
for warmth. His kennel is a coco-nut shell, his bed a little cotton, put
within it, which he seems to enjoy, without feeling oppressed by heat or
closeness.

You would not pardon me, if I were to omit noting a fact which occurred
to my observation during my visit at New Amsterdam. In company with some
of the officers I went to make a morning call at the house of one of the
most respectable inhabitants of the town; and whilst we were sitting
with the lady of the family, a fine black child, about a year old,
strayed into the room; where she trotted round, looking and smiling with
innocent playfulness at each of the party. Diverted with the naked
little _Pickaninny_, I took her upon my knee, and danced her about for
some time; then led her out at the door, to give her to a young mulatto
woman, one of the slaves of the house, whom I saw sitting in the hall.
On offering the child to this copper-skinned lady, she darted a
repulsive look and turned from me. Not aware of the cause of this, I
lifted up the infant, to place it upon her knee, when she indignantly
pushed the poor babe away. I still repeated the attempt, endeavouring to
make her comprehend that I wished to have the child taken from me: but
no! she continued to thrust her away with increased indignation.
Surprised at this conduct, and wholly unable to account for it, I led my
little naked female back into the parlour, and mentioning the
circumstance to Madame S——, begged of her to tell me whether it was the
black face of the infant, or my pallid visage, that was the object of
dislike to this damsel of _golden hue_. A monosyllable conveyed the
explanation! Madame S——, pointing to the child, whispered “_noire!_” Is
it possible? I exclaimed. Can it be credible that this creature who is a
slave herself, and only one remove from the negroes, can have imbibed
such proud ideas of distinction, as to despise a fellow slave, and
helpless infant, merely because she differs a single shade from herself,
in the colour of her skin? “_Il n’y a rien de plus vrai_,” replied
Madame S——, who further remarked, that this very mulatto was herself a
most excellent nurse, and peculiarly fond of children; but, to be worthy
of her attentions, it was indispensable that they should be, at least,
as fair as herself: her sister’s children, the offspring of a mulatto
woman and a white man, she would nurse with the utmost sedulity and
tenderness! On learning this I again went to the mulatto, and
endeavoured to prevail upon her, to take from me the good-humoured and
playful little negress. But I found that no persuasions could induce her
to notice the poor babe, who all the time looked up in her face, and
solicited her attentions with a smile of heavenly innocence. Her skin
was black, and it would demean even a slave, but a single degree whiter
than herself, to treat her as a fellow-being. Such are the distinctions
of colour! and such, alas! the misfortune, which luxury presumes to
impose upon a numerous race, for no better reason than that, in His
infinite wisdom, it has pleased the Common Parent of all, to place upon
His children of Europe, a paler skin, than has been given to His
children of Africa.

I have again been with a party across the river, to visit our princely
neighbour Mr. Blair. It was a birth-day festival, and perhaps a more
choice and sumptuous repast could not have been found, even in the proud
cities of Europe. Amidst a crowded variety of covers we had a large
green turtle, with a great variety of the best European vegetables. The
fruits were endemic, and such as London with all its riches cannot
obtain. At no other house in the colony are such entertainments given: a
circumstance, which, together with the paucity of our ordinary supply,
and indeed the difficulty of procuring any fresh provisions for our
table, makes such a gala day quite an object of notice. To you, who have
daily feasting before you, it can offer nothing remarkable. You will not
be surprised when I tell you that the generous donor experiences the
honorable reward of feeling, in his remotest extremities, the pungency
of his dishes.

The Dutch division of the party returned across the river, at an early
hour, like orderly citizens. The officers remained all night, but a
rational sobriety tempered the mirth of the evening. I rose before my
comrades, in the morning, intending to bathe in the sea; but on going
upon the fine beach before the house, for that purpose, my face, and
legs, and hands were so bitten by myriads of sand-flies, as to deter me
from exposing to them my naked surface.

The weather has been tolerably dry since the commencement of July,
particularly in the day-time. In the night we have frequent showers of
rain. The breeze is usually steady, and hitherto we have not found the
air perceptibly hotter than in the preceding months of May and June. The
thermometer seldom exceeds 84. Almost every night we have mild and
beautiful flashes of lightning, following each other in quick succession
without thunder. Here also the moon appears clad in peculiar brightness.
A few evenings ago we had an opportunity of seeing a very perfect Iris,
formed from its light. A pale-looking cloud interposed itself directly
before the moon, when, as if to show her powers, she calmly separated
her rays, and arched them on the skies, in all the splendour of a
beautiful rainbow.

You have already learned, that on leaving Barbadoes we were hurried away
without our baggage, it being supposed that we should quickly return
thither, in order to proceed to St. Domingo. We now begin to feel the
inconvenience of this disjunction, and particularly in the article of
shoes, which we are obliged to buy from the very wretched stores,
brought by the Americans. Such execrable specimens I had never seen
before. A London dust-woman would scarcely pick them up in the street.
They are commonly mouldy, and of very hard, rough, and coarse leather;
the colour of which is a rusty brown, with red shining through it; and,
withal, they are most miserably, and, I may say, painfully made. The
price of these uneasy coverings for the feet is as high as three
dollars. If we were in the expectation of remaining upon this station, I
should beg of you to send me out a package from Rymer: but it is still
intimated that the branch of the St. Domingo hospital staff, on duty in
these colonies, may be soon removed; and in this uncertainty the
continuing to wear rough American shoes, will not be the greatest
mortification I shall have to support, for it delays the hope of
speedily hearing from my friends in England. I cannot say—write to me,
here! yet I know not when I may go hence; and if I should be ordered to
proceed first to Barbadoes, or Martinique, it may be long before I reach
Hispaniola. Still, amidst all the uncertainties of my situation, my best
hope of hearing from you at all, seems to rest on your letters being
addressed to the Head-quarters of the army of St. Domingo. Continue,
therefore, to send them thither, and, whenever I may arrive, I shall
hail the accumulated feast that will await me, as the best reward of the
long and anxious suspense to which I am doomed.




                               LETTER V.


                                                   La Bourgade, July 30.

After addressing my last letter to you, I was called from Berbische,
somewhat suddenly, in consequence of a rapid increase of sickness among
the troops in the colony of Demarara.

The necessity for my immediate attendance here, leaving me no choice
with regard to my mode of travelling, I embarked on board the first
vessel that sailed, and which proved to be nearly allied to the
memorable Voltigeur. But, although I was very ill accommodated, I was
not exposed to the multiplied evils of my former voyage; and,
fortunately, had to support the discomforts only for a single night.

I was put safe on shore the second day, at one of the landing-places at
Stabroek, which are here called _Sterlings_. They are long wooden
platforms, which are built on pillars of timber, and extend to a
considerable distance into the river, forming very convenient stations
for descending into the boats, and landing from them.

Having mentioned the cause of my return to this colony, you will expect
that the predictions of the inhabitants of these settlements are about
to be verified; I may therefore observe to you, that the busy season of
duty which they led me to anticipate, has stolen upon me, “like a thief
in the night.” The number of sick, and the malignity of the disease have
greatly augmented, and it seems probable that very few, if any of the
troops will escape its attack. From ten to fifteen have been received
into the hospital, in fever, within the twenty-four hours, for several
days in succession; and we have remarked that great numbers have been
seized while employed on duty as sentinels.

I have visited the fort, and examined very minutely into the habits of
the soldiers, and the general economy of the garrison, in order to
ascertain whether any cause existed there, to which this rapid increase
of sickness could be attributed: but I met with nothing that could
explain it, for although the men have lately received a payment of
clearance-money, it by no means appears, that spirituous liquors have
been used to any degree that could excite a suspicion of this being the
cause of the multiplied sickness which prevails. It is, probably, the
mere effect of the season, resulting from the greater heat of the days,
the damp chilliness of the evenings, and the offensive miasmata exhaled
from half-exposed mud.

The quantity of rain that now falls is not sufficient to cover the
feculent sediment of the numerous ditches, nor to prevent their
unwholesome vapours from rising into the atmosphere; and the partial
showers which occur during the evening and night, by softening the
half-dried surface, favor the exhalation, while they produce a chilling
dampness, which perhaps contributes to render the body more than usually
susceptible of impression.

The evenings are now so much colder, to our feelings, than we found them
in the preceding months, that we have lately been able to sit with the
room-door shut, and have even thought that a blanket, during the night,
might have been supportable. Yet the thermometer indicates no
considerable diminution of heat in the evening, and but a very slight
augmentation at noon. Hence it is probable, that the increased
susceptibility of the system may proceed from some change in the state
of the body, not exclusively depending upon the mere effect of heat and
cold. But you will not forgive me if I engage in hypothetical
disquisitions. I will content myself therefore with having related to
you the facts, and without offering doubtful inferences, leave you to
form your own conclusions.




                               LETTER VI.


                                                Mahaica, August 7, 1796.

Again my residence is changed, and I have to address you from a new
home. The same unhappy cause which removed me from Berbische to La
Bourgade, called me thence to an important post, occupied by a strong
division of our troops at Mahaica. Disease has spread over the whole
extent of this coast, and threatens every European with an attack.

Unhappily no exemption is granted in favor of the medical attendants,
and at a period when we are most required to relieve the sickness of
others, we are most liable to it ourselves. On my arrival at Mahaica, I
had the misfortune to find the medical assistant, upon this station,
lying in an advanced stage of yellow fever, rapidly sinking into the
grave, which has since swallowed his remains. Accounts have also reached
me of the death of another of our professional comrades, whom I left
only a few days ago in good health, at the hospital at La Bourgade.
These are afflicting deductions from our scanty establishment, and they
are the more painfully felt in consequence of some of the regiments not
having with them either of their medical officers; which throws the
whole of the regimental, as well as the hospital duty, upon the few
gentlemen of the St. Domingo staff, who were detached to these colonies;
and whose situation, at this critical juncture, is harassing and
distressful to the highest degree. From the heavy pressure of sickness,
and the necessarily remote distribution of our very limited division, it
is only with extreme toil and exertion that we are able to do justice to
the poor suffering objects who claim our attention: yet, with an
increasing demand for our services, we have the severe misfortune to see
our numbers and our means diminish.

My own best efforts shall not be wanting, but I am well aware that there
are many comforts I could wish for the sick, which, from the
circumstances of the moment, it will be wholly impossible to procure for
them. At this post I have the charge of a crowded host of patients, all
inconveniently placed, and have neither an apothecary, a mate, nor any
other medical man to assist me: I am exposed therefore to incessant and
almost insupportable fatigue. My whole day is spent amidst the sick, or
in procuring for them some accommodation: they occupy all my time and
all my care.

Unfortunately, too, my quarters are nearly a mile from the hospital, and
I have that distance to walk four times every day, which, alone, is
considered by the inhabitants as a degree of labour, sufficient to
destroy the strongest frame. At six o’clock, I make my morning visit,
when several hours are fully employed, with my head bent almost to the
ground, in examining and listening to nearly a hundred patients, all
lying upon paillasses spread on the floor; and many of them scarcely
able to hear, or reply to my questions. After this I have to instruct an
orderly soldier to compound my prescriptions, and to see him administer
the medicines. Next I have to prescribe the provisions, and the mode of
preparing them for the convalescents; which is here no less a duty than
to order medicine for the sick; and further, from having no purveyor, it
falls to my lot, in some degree, to superintend even the cooking;
otherwise, as only salt meat is issued, our messes would scarcely be
made eatable—certainly not palatable, nor fit for the stomachs of men
only recovering from disease. But from great care and attention, in
having the meat steeped the over-night, then well scalded, and
afterwards stewed in fresh water, with rice, yams, sweet potatoes, peas,
or broken pieces of bread, we form various changes of nutritive, and not
disagreeable pottage.

Having gone through the whole of these ceremonies, which you will
believe consume a full proportion of the forenoon, I have to walk back
to the barracks, and am frequently so exhausted as to be obliged to
throw myself at full length upon my mattress, and lie for a considerable
time before I can recover sufficient strength either to bathe my person,
or take my breakfast.

In the evening I return again to the hospital, and repeat my visit to
the sick as in the morning. Whenever I can command an interval it is
employed in writing, for, in addition to my other engagements, I have to
make out the necessary returns for the commanding officer, and for
head-quarters, also to keep full and correct statements of all accompts,
receipts, and hospital disbursements.

Amidst my busy round, I often hear it whispered, that the toil to which
I am subjected must _soon destroy_ me; and many of the officers and
planters are kind enough to express friendly apprehensions regarding my
safety: but, at this hour of need, no personal considerations can induce
me to relax in my duty. More than my utmost efforts are required to
procure only scanty comforts for the sick, and, under such
circumstances, I can neither enjoy rest, nor shun fatigue. Not only an
imperious sense of duty, but humanity also calls upon me to contribute
every aid in my power, and I cannot but feel that to limit my exertions,
or diminish my efforts would be unjust, if not even criminal, towards
the unfortunate objects of my care. With respect to disease I feel not
the slightest personal apprehension, and even if I did, I should deem it
necessary, situated as I now am, to subdue my terrors. A military
officer does not shrink from a cannon, although he sees it pointed
towards him! nor ought a medical officer to turn from disease, which it
is his duty to meet and to combat! I have been always of opinion that
the physician, who deserts his post, in the hour of sickness, is not
less a coward than the officer who abandons his garrison at a period of
danger; or the soldier who turns his back upon an enemy in the field of
battle: therefore, however anxious the kindness of my friends and
comrades may render them, concerning my safety, I cannot prevail upon
myself to lessen my exertions.

From its situation Mahaica might be regarded as one of the most healthy
posts in Guiana. It is open to the sea, and freely exposed to the cool
breeze. We have no town, nor village near us. The name is given to a
certain district about the mouth of (what is here termed a creek, but
what is in fact) a considerable river, called by the Indians Mahaica.
The fort, in point of strength, offers nothing formidable, but its site
is well chosen as a military post, being on the coast between the two
rivers Demarara and Berbische, about twenty miles from the former, and
fifty from the latter: and immediately upon the border of the sea,
commanding the entrance of the river Mahaica, and of a smaller creek
which opens nearly at the same spot into the ocean. Next to Fort William
Frederic, and Fort St. Andrew, Mahaica is the most important garrison in
the two colonies. The barracks at the fort are not large enough to
contain the whole of the troops now stationed here; the house and other
buildings, therefore, of a neighbouring estate, called Lancaster, are
occupied for that purpose. Indeed, to meet the exigencies of the moment,
we are compelled to appropriate every room at the fort to the use of the
sick; and all the officers and soldiers, who are well, are removed to
the plantation Lancaster, which is nearly a mile from the fort, upon the
same bank of the river, but on the opposite side of the creek.

Lancaster is a large cotton estate belonging to the representatives of a
Mr. Phillips, who is lately dead. It is now under the direction of a
manager, subject to the control of an attorney; the former residing on
the spot, the latter at a plantation in the vicinity.

This estate is traversed in various parts by double rows of trees,
forming a pleasant shade between them; and, bearing a fruit, resembling,
in flavour, the Turkey fig, are hence called figtrees. They are rather
larger than the orange trees, and their foliage is thick and green. The
fruit is about the size of the coffee berry: it is filled with small
seeds, and in substance is like the fig.

With respect to provisions, we are less happy than regarding our
quarters. Salt meat and the vegetables of the country constitute our
almost unvaried fare. Occasionally we procure a Muscovy duck, a chicken,
a young kid, or a sucking pig, and then it is high feast. Our standing
dishes are pease-soup, and salt pork. The plantain also furnishes a
steady supply. We now eat this with creole appetite, and although we, at
first, disliked it, we begin to consider it as one of the most pleasant
and useful articles of food, which the country affords: roasted, it
serves as bread—boiled, it is used as a table-vegetable—stewed, or
fried, it is eaten as fruit—and pounded in a mortar, it makes excellent
pudding. The yam is also a substantial friend to us; as are likewise the
eddoes and cassada. The potatoes of the country are sweet and satiating,
and not much esteemed. We occasionally obtain a few which have been
brought from Europe in the trading ships: and these we enjoy as a great
treat. The officers of the 99th regiment, now on duty here, have kindly
received me into the regimental mess, which, by offering me the common
supply of their table, happily relieves me from all the trouble and
concern of seeking provisions; and is at this moment of hurry and
fatigue, an important accommodation.




                              LETTER VII.


                                                        Mahaica, August.

If I were to proceed only upon the knowledge I have of your feelings, I
should avoid laying before you a history, which is more direful and
afflicting than any arising from the ravages of the much-dreaded fever
of this climate; but, when I recollect that it was emphatically your
request that I would relate every fact which should present itself to my
observation, respecting the slaves, I cannot refrain from telling you,
that since my arrival at Mahaica, one of the most shocking instances of
barbarity has occurred, which was ever perpetrated, even in a land of
slavery.

Two unhappy negroes, a man and a woman, having been driven by cruel
treatment to abscond from the plantation Lancaster, were taken a few
days since, and brought back to the estate, when the manager, whose
inhuman severity had caused them to fly from his government, dealt out
to them his avenging despotism with more than savage brutality. Taking
with him two of his strongest drivers, armed with heavy whips, he led
out these trembling and wretched Africans, early in the morning, to a
remote part of the estate, too distant for the officers to hear their
cries; and, there, tying down first the man, he stood by, and made the
drivers flog him with many hundred lashes, until, on releasing him from
the ground, it was discovered that he was nearly exhausted: in this
state the monster struck-him on the head, with the but end of a large
whip, and felled him again to the earth; when the poor negro, escaping
at once from his slavery and his sufferings, expired at the murderer’s
feet. But not satiated with blood, this savage tyrant next tied down the
naked woman, on the spot, by the dead body of her husband, and with the
whips, already purple with gore, compelled the drivers to inflict a
punishment of several hundred lashes, which had nearly released her also
from a life of toil and torture.

Hearing of these acts of cruelty, on my return from the hospital, and
scarcely believing it possible that they could have been committed, I
went immediately to the sick-house to satisfy myself by ocular
testimony: when, alas! I discovered that all I had heard was too fatally
true; for, shocking to relate, I found the almost murdered woman lying
stark-naked on her belly, upon the dirty boards, without any covering to
the horrid wounds which had been cut by the whips, and with the still
warm and bloody corpse of the man extended at her side, upon the neck of
which was an iron collar, and a long heavy chain, which the now murdered
negro had been made to wear from the time of his return to the estate.
The flesh of the woman was so torn, as to exhibit one extensive sore,
from the loins almost down to her hams; nor had humanity administered
even a drop of oil to soften her wounds: the only relief she knew, was
that of extending her feeble arm in order to beat off the tormenting
flies, with a small green bough, which had been put into her hand for
that purpose by the sympathizing kindness of a fellow slave. A more
horrid and distressful spectacle can scarcely be conceived. The dead
man, and the almost expiring woman had been brought home, from the place
of punishment, and thrown into the negro hospital, amidst the crowd of
sick, with cruel unconcern. Lying on the opposite side of the corpse was
a fellow-sufferer, in a similar condition to the poor woman. His
buttocks, thighs, and part of his back, had been flogged into one large
sore, which was still raw, although he had been punished a fortnight
before.

The following day we witnessed the preparations for the funeral of their
murdered brother, by his fellow slaves. It was conducted in their usual
manner, not with the afflicting solemnity of the Christian rites, but
with all the mirthful ceremonies of African burial, forming a scene of
gaiety, which consisted of music, dancing, singing, and loud noise. They
all seemed to rejoice more in his escape from pain and misery, than to
sorrow for his loss.

The body being put into the coffin, and every thing made ready for
proceeding to the grave, the corpse was taken out of the sick-house into
the yard, and placed very carefully upon the heads of two robust
negroes, who carried it as far as the house, and then, halting under the
window of the manager’s room, they set the coffin upon the ground, and
the whole gang of slaves danced and sang, and played their music around
it, in loud gambols, for nearly two hours; beating at intervals, with
great violence, against the door and window-shutters, and threatening
vengeance upon the murderer of their companion. The manager expecting
that they would break into the house to massacre him, and feeling that
he merited death from their hands, was seized with sad alarm; and,
bursting from his hiding-place, he ran abruptly to the mess-room, to
implore the protection of the officers, looking a ghastly figure of
terror. I could not but remark the effect of his sudden appearance among
us. Not one officer opened his lips in reply to him. The general feeling
seemed to say—“a wretch so cruel can deserve no compassion.” After a
short suspense, the silence, which must have been more severe than the
bitterest words, was broken, by one of the gentlemen referring him to
his feelings, and demanding whether he conceived himself to merit either
pity or protection. His fears had magnified the danger; for although the
slaves were clamorous, we did not notice among them any symptoms which
evinced a disposition forcibly to break into the house. They at length
concluded their dance, then replacing the coffin upon the heads of the
two negroes, and observing much ceremony as to the position of the
corpse, they proceeded towards the place of interment. On leaving the
courtyard, they used the precaution of going round the house, in order
to avoid carrying the body across the manager’s window, not, as you will
suppose, from any sense of delicacy towards him, but from some
superstition regarding the spirit of the dead slave. As they moved on,
two women tapped gently at the sides of the coffin, as if to appease the
corpse, or soften its wrath while passing the murderer’s abode. The
manager felt highly relieved by their departure; but they had not gone
far before the whole party suddenly faced about, and came running back
to the house, the two negroes who were bearing the corpse turning round
and round, with it upon their heads, a number of times in the yard,
while many of the gang beat and kicked against the door, and the
window-shutters of the manager’s room, shouting and crying aloud for
vengeance: upon which one of the book-keepers, an old man who had been
long upon the estate, went out to join in the crowd; and exerting his
influence to appease them, led them away, when they proceeded, dancing,
singing, and beating their music, to the place of burial. After a short
time the gang returned again into the courtyard, having left the remains
of their companion in the peaceful grave. The busy dance was now
resumed, and they hooted and hissed at the manager, and beat loudly at
his door and window, continuing their shoutings and clamour until dark,
when they all retired quietly to their huts.

A few days after the funeral, the attorney of the estate happened to
call at Lancaster to visit the officers, and the conversation naturally
turning upon the late cruelty of the manager, and the consequent injury
derived to the proprietor, we asked him what punishment the laws of the
colony had provided for such horrid and barbarous crimes; expressing our
hope that the manager would suffer the disgrace he so justly merited;
when, to our great surprise, the attorney smiled and treated our remarks
only as the dreams of men unpractised in the ways of slavery. He spake
of the murder with as little feeling as the manager had perpetrated it,
and seemed to be amused at our visionary ideas, of _punishing a white
man_ for his conduct towards slaves! To the question whether the manager
would not be dismissed from the estate, he replied, “_Certainly not_,”
adding that “_if the negro had been treated as he deserved he would have
been flogged to death long before_.” Such was the amount of his sympathy
and concern! The laws of the colony, he said, were intended to prevent
any person from chastising a slave with more than thirty-nine lashes,
for the same offence; but by incurring only a small fine, he could, at
any time, punish a negro with as many hundred lashes as he might wish,
“although the governor and the fiscal” were standing at his elbow.

I was careful to observe the progress of the hideous wounds inflicted
upon the poor woman, and to watch her recovery; and you will be shocked
to know that her sufferings were severely increased, by the inhuman
neglect which succeeded to her punishment. One morning, upon hearing the
loud cries of a female, I was led to look out at my window, when I saw
some negroes carrying this unfortunate woman from the sick-house into
the yard, where they laid her down in the dirt, upon the bare ground,
amidst a heavy shower of rain, then, kneeling at her sides, they
proceeded to examine minutely into her wounds; and you will scarcely
hold it credible, when I tell you that they were employed a full
half-hour _picking maggots out of her sores_!!! The ulcerations had
penetrated to a great depth, particularly with-inside the thighs, where
the lashes of the whips had cut round, and torn the flesh in a frightful
manner. The ulcers were very raw and considerably enlarged, by the
gnawing of the maggots which had been bred within them. I cannot
describe to you the horror I felt at this deplorable sight. I had often
heard of _maggoting_ sheep, but this was the first instance I had met
with of maggoting a human being, and I felt additional distress in
finding the subject of it an unhappy female, whose punishment had been
already severe, and in whom the occasion for such a beastly process
might and ought to have been prevented, if the common dictates of
humanity had been observed. The poor afflicted wretch groaned heavily
under her sufferings, and the operation, which in itself was severely
painful, was rendered so in a still greater degree by the roughness of
her untutored surgeons. During the whole of the time, she was exposed
naked to the rain; also to the eyes of slaves, officers, soldiers, and
all who chanced to pass that way. It was a spectacle, equally offensive
to humanity, and to delicacy!

On representing the diabolical cruelty of this case to the surgeon, he
remarked to us, that the sores, from punishments, did not usually fall
under his inspection, but were left to the care of the _negro doctor_
who had the charge of the sick-house; and that nothing was more common
than to see the wounds filled with maggots. “Indeed,” said he, “it is
often our greatest difficulty, in the practice of surgery in these
climates, to prevent the breeding of insects in the sores.”

I am sorry to remark that the Lancaster plantation has been
distinguished for some time past, on account of the inhuman treatment of
the slaves; in fact, it seemed as if cruelty had become contagious upon
this estate, for we learn, from the most respectable authority, that a
former proprietor was so hardened in his savage conduct that,
frequently, when an unfortunate negro was bound down to the earth, and
groaning under the severe pain of two heavy lashes, he would strike him
a blow upon the head with the butt end of his whip, between each of the
strokes given by the drivers; and that, carrying his barbarity still
further, he would sometimes order the teeth of the slave to be torn out
with a pair of iron pincers, and would himself stand by to see the
torture inflicted.

I can anticipate your sentiments upon reading the history of these
shocking punishments, for they afford lamentable examples of the horrors
and injustice of slavery; and you cannot but think, with me, that the
system which gives to an individual the power of lording his worst
passions, over a fellow-being, uncontrolled, admits of no defence. It is
a violation of nature, in which humanity is outraged, and our species
degraded!




                              LETTER VIII.


                                                     Mahaica, August 22.

I am exceedingly sorry not to be able to give you improved tidings
concerning the health of the troops upon this station. They are still
very sickly, and it is distressing to know that the number of patients
increases more rapidly than our means of accommodation. I remain quite
well, amidst the general sickness which surrounds me; indeed, I am now
the only medical officer of this expedition who has not experienced an
attack of fever, but it would be too much to expect that I shall wholly
escape its visitation. My best hope is, that I may not be seized, while
my services are so essential to the relief of others.

In addition to the many duties which press upon me, I have now to
perform the melancholy office of priest. From having no clergyman at
Mahaica it falls to my lot to go through the afflicting ceremony of
reading the funeral service over my lost comrades. This is a severe task
to me, and I am sometimes fearful lest my spirits should become too much
depressed to support me through the various claims of my present
calling; but I am well aware, that if I were to yield to the distressful
apprehensions which I see exhibited by those around me, who are not
medical men, the situation of the sick must be more dreadful even than
it is, at present; I am therefore resolved, if my strength continue, to
meet with firmness all the necessities of this urgent period.

We have recently lost a pleasant and amiable companion in the decease of
Captain Heritage. He suffered serious alarm on account of the death of
the acting surgeon, and we found it impossible to rouse him from the
desponding impression. On the 6th instant, he followed poor Ramsden to
the grave, and from terror fancied that he perceived a “smell of the
disease;” but I remarked, while I was reading the service over the body,
that he had placed himself at a considerable distance to windward,
holding a handkerchief, the whole of the time, to his mouth and nose.
During the two following days he went about, as usual, among his
comrades, without complaining of being ill, but still expressing his
fears, and occasionally speaking of slight head-ach. On the morning of
the 9th I was called to visit him as a patient, when I found him in bed.
On the evening of the 10th he died. He had no strongly marked symptom of
disease, nor any sign of great pain or suffering; but an experienced eye
might discover from his general appearance, at the first moment of my
being called to him, that there was no hope of his recovery. Extreme
languor, with a peculiar change of feature, not to be described by
words, might be said to constitute the disease, while they were correct
indications of its dangerous nature. Soon, every thing he swallowed was
thrown from the stomach without effort—the prostration of strength
became excessive—he grew helpless—sunk into a state of listlessness—made
no complaint:—low delirium supervened—he turned yellow, and ... fell to
the earth like an autumnal leaf.

You will not be surprised to know that rumour has been busy on the
subject of the prevailing sickness, and its fatal tendency: or that the
prejudices of the inhabitants have led them to imagine that if it were
treated by “_the colonial doctors_” the disease might be easily subdued.
In consequence of such remarks, and in order to satisfy my own feelings,
by trying every means which it was in my power to obtain, for the relief
of the sick, I have solicited the aid of the medical men of the country,
both English and Dutch, and asked them to oblige me by attending
frequently at the hospital, that I might avail myself of their talents
and experience to the improvement of my own practice, and the consequent
benefit of the afflicted: several of the gentlemen have, accordingly,
been good enough to favor us with occasional attendance; but I find that
here, as at Berbische, the disorder is treated in the same manner as the
common remittent fever of the country, and nearly the whole reliance
confided to the bark—that great sheet-anchor of West India practice.
This was prescribed in ample quantity, and in various forms, but it
entirely failed of success.

At the time of poor Captain Heritage’s attack I particularly requested
the assistance of one of my colonial brethren; and perceiving that it
was beyond my own power to relieve him, I begged of Dr. —— to use his
utmost endeavours to save him, when, without appearing to entertain the
same apprehensions of his danger as myself, he advised a copious use of
the bark. After visiting Captain H. this gentleman went with me into the
hospital, where I selected four other recent cases, which seemed likely
to terminate fatally, and intreated the doctor to take these likewise
under his care; to command the resources of the hospital department; and
to exert his best means of restoring: them: but he declined the charge
of attending them, as his patients, although he consented to accompany
me in my visits, and to consult with me regarding them; which afforded
me infinite satisfaction, as I earnestly hoped to profit by his practice
for the benefit of others. The bark was prescribed for them all, and
most liberally administered, but in vain; for not one of them recovered!
The doctor was greatly disappointed at the unhappy result of these
cases, and, declaring that there was “_something different_” in the
fever which prevailed among the troops, from that which usually attacked
the colonists, he wished me better success, and withdrew his attendance.

It is scarcely requisite to mention that the trade-wind is lighter and
less steady, during the decline of the wet season, than it becomes in
the time of the dry season: so necessary, and salutiferous is it
esteemed at all times, and particularly at the present period, that, on
the breeze setting in, it is common for the people of the country to
exclaim, “Here comes the doctor,” hailing it as the best medical friend
of the colony. If it be not so powerful now as it is in the dry season,
still it may be said to be always free at Mahaica, although it does not
prove successful in preventing the wide ravages of disease.

Frequently I have long conversations with “_Doctor Bob_,” the resident
black _physician_ at the negro hospital, and sub-medical attendant of
his brother slaves, who is very communicative, and furnishes me with
many facts and remarks; and notwithstanding they are not always of
sterling value, they are occasionally interesting and important. A few
days since, on finding that his sick list had increased in almost as
great a degree as my own, I asked Dr. Bob how this happened, when he
replied, “_It always so, Massa, at this time o’ year, because him
weather change from wet to dry._” Seeing a negro boy, at the same
moment, in a high paroxysm of fever, his case became the subject of our
conversation, in the course of which this sable _doctor_ made the
following remark: “_Him fever shall go, when him water come low;—him
always come hot, when him tide high_:” a fact which we very frequently
observe at the hospital, although not so generally as to authorize an
unqualified opinion, that the febrile accessions strictly connect with
lunar influence.

The present moment may be said to be the high season of yellow fever. It
now rages in its utmost violence, and with sorrow I remark, that great
numbers perish from its malignity. Until the partial rains of the
present period shall have ceased, and the dry season be well set in, it
is said that we have to expect a continuance of sickness: nor does it
appear to be within the power of man to prevent it. Of the cure, perhaps
in many cases, I might speak in similar terms, for although we can
frequently remove the disease, interrupt its course, or lessen its
violence by combating it in an _early stage_; still, when the more
malignant symptoms have appeared, it seldom happens that any medicine
can arrest their progress. Bark, mercury, bleeding, bathing, and a
variety of other remedies have been amply tried: but in vain, for all
have proved equally ineffectual.

A painful alarm obtains among the troops; the medical officers are
falling victims to their fatigue; and many circumstances combine to
augment the melancholy gloom of this distressing period. At Mahaica the
numbers admitted into the hospital form a very large proportion of the
garrison; the same is the case at Stabrock. At Maiconuy and Awbarry, two
smaller posts between Mahaica and Berbische, although much of sickness
prevails, the disease assumes an intermittent or remittent form, and is
less fatal: while here, and at Fort William Frederic, it attacks with
all the destructive violence of a continued fever.

In my walks to and from the hospital, I sometimes fix myself at the side
of the sea, or on the border of the river, and contemplate, in solitude,
the awful, and peculiarly critical situation in which I am placed! I
behold the responsibility of an important department pressing upon
me—crowds of sick lifting up their dying eyes to me for relief—officers
watching, in earnest solicitude, my slightest complainings—soldiers
looking towards me with anxiety for my safety, and all who are near me
regarding me with the most lively concern—each seeming to express
himself sensible how much his health, and even his life, may soon depend
upon the care and exertions of an individual!

Anxious to lessen the evils of this afflicting season, I lately obtained
the consent of the commanding officer, and prevailed upon a party of
soldiers to place themselves under my direction, in order to try what
might be the effect of some prophylactic means, either in keeping off
the attack of the disease, or in rendering its symptoms milder; but,
after only a few days observance of the plan I advised, some of the men
happening to feel a little uneasy from the medicine, they all swore they
would not be _killed, while they were well_, to oblige either the
captain or the doctor, and, refusing to persevere, completely frustrated
my endeavours, and prevented me from ascertaining what might have been
the fair result of the trial.

Our diet-table at the hospital is of late very much improved, in
consequence of the planters, of the neighbouring estates, having agreed
to supply us, each in his turn, with fresh provisions for two days in
the week. It is not usual for Englishmen to esteem plain beef or mutton
a luxury; but such we really find it here, and, when we obtain it, we
feast upon it with high and particular enjoyment.




                               LETTER IX.


                                                    Mahaica, Sept. 1796.

A considerable proportion of the officers’ mess, from the Lancaster
barracks, have lately been to dine with Major Prauél, a pleasant
inhabitant of this coast, whose plantation is only a short distance from
the fort. The dinner was plentiful, and handsomely served in a large
cotton logis, which had been prepared for the purpose, and, being
spacious and cool, was far preferable to the house. As we returned in
the evening, we witnessed a very grand and brilliant scene from the
burning of a part of the forest, in order to clear an estate for
cultivation. The trees were consuming with great rapidity, and from the
fire increasing in brightness as the evening closed, it formed a most
splendid and imposing spectacle. The major observed to us that this
improvement of the picture was not the mere effect of viewing it through
the surrounding darkness, it being a fact very generally known in this
country that when any part of the wood is set on fire, it burns with
more rapidity during the night than in the day-time. From the greater
strength of the breeze between the early hours of the morning and
evening, this might seem improbable: but your chemical reading will
furnish you with an explanation of the fact, from the known tendency of
light to preserve oxygen in its gaseous state, and to prevent the
decomposition of the atmospheric air, which is so essential to
combustion. The fire appeared very beautiful, and might be seen to the
distance of many miles. It arrested our attention for a considerable
time, and we contemplated it as an object of grandeur and novelty.

The officers kindly wishing to divert me, in some degree, from the
severe fatigue and anxiety which I have lately undergone, and which,
they insist, will destroy me, have prevailed upon me to accompany a
party of them on a visit to Mynheer Bercheych, one of the most eccentric
and remarkable characters residing upon this coast—an old gentleman, who
by uncommon industry has formed a cotton plantation at the most remote
point of the colony, where he lives, amidst negroes and wild Indians,
almost secluded from the world.

We first rode the distance of some miles, across rich plains of cotton,
to the house of Mr. Graham, situated immediately upon the bank of the
river, about midway between the fort and M. Bercheych’s. Here we found a
party of slaves in waiting, with a large handsome canoe, sent by M.
Bercheych, for the purpose of conveying us the remainder of the journey.
The tide serving, we made no delay, but taking Mr. Graham into the canoe
with us, proceeded forthwith on our route. After an hour and quarter of
hard paddling up the river, we turned into a narrow canal, and were
pulled a considerable distance further, by the slaves, running upon the
bank with a rope fastened to the canoe. This canal leads to the house,
and serves as the boundary of M. Bercheych’s property. It is continued
from a deep savanna at the back of the dwelling, and goes along the
border of the plantation to the river, into which it conveys its waters,
and prevents the inundation of the estate. At one spot we were obliged
to quit the canoe, whilst the slaves dragged it over land, in order to
pass a bridge and a sluice which interrupted our passage. On the other
side of these we resumed our seats, and proceeded towards the house,
which is at the further part of the estate. On seeing us approach, M.
Bercheych walked out to meet us; and, on coming near, he hailed us with
a most reverential salutation. We immediately left the canoe, and walked
with him upon the bank of the canal to the house.

His person and address were strongly impressive, being at once graceful
and dignified, although such as to convey an idea of the rigid precision
of a formal old ’squire. Much had been reported to us of the situation
also of the man, whose eccentricity is become proverbial in the colony.
Our visit, therefore, was one of high curiosity, and we did not return
without experiencing very ample gratification.

M. Bercheych is a remarkably fine man. He is robust and well-built, of
hale countenance and sturdy form, very erect in his carriage, and
possessing uncommon activity, together with great bodily strength, and
vast energy of mind. From his figure and the formality of his address,
he appears to be stern and unbending, but in reality he is affable,
jocose, and communicative, and has nothing of the cold reserve of his
country about him. He met us dressed in coat, waistcoat, and breeches of
nankeen, all cut in the true antique; a very large and almost cardinal
hat, of white beaver; shoes well squared at the extremities, and
fastened with a pair of plain small buckles; a long staff in his hand,
and his knuckles ornamented with deep ruffles. As he walked, his staff
and right hand ruffle made an extensive sweep, describing a wide circle;
his step was firm and decisive, the tail of his coat moved with an
important swing from side to side, in unison with the majestic sway of
his body—his general air was commanding and dignified. On arriving at
the house, he welcomed all the party individually, going through the
ceremony of deliberately taking each by the hand, and bowing to him with
the profoundest politeness: showing at the same time, every mark of
respect and hospitality to the whole body. Wine was immediately set
before us, for our refreshment after the journey, and we took our seats
in a cool romantic little cottage, which, in appearance, and in the
simplicity of its structure, might have vied with the dwelling of a
hermit. Its walls were built with the caudices of the leaves of a fine
species of palm, called Eta, which in substance are lighter than cane.
These were placed together perpendicularly, and resembled a number of
well-arranged columns or small pillars, which were divided and
supported, at intervals, by others of the bamboo, somewhat larger; nor
were any of them concealed or defaced with paint, paper, or stucco, but
all were exposed in the naked simplicity of their original form. The
partitions dividing the rooms were of similar structure; the floors were
of brick; the windows, simple openings in the walls; and the furniture,
of plain wood, unadorned. In point of situation too, this native little
cottage might have been a hermit’s fit abode; for it is placed at the
border of a wild savanna, overhung with heavy and impenetrable forests,
and far removed from the busy tumult of the world.

The estate is at the greatest depth from the sea, being the most distant
that has yet been cultivated upon the Mahaica creek, consequently it is
nearest to the forest, and its naked inhabitants. Deep and unexplored
woods approach almost to the door; before the windows grow cotton bushes
and bananas: a small canal passes by the side of the cottage: and the
only extensive view is over a large savanna, carrying the eye to its
utmost reach, in unbroken range between the rude forests.

Here dwells a man of refined manners, and a most active mind, cultivated
by education, and improved by having lived in polished society. M.
Bercheych is one of the oldest inhabitants of the colony of Demarara,
having resided in this settlement when it consisted of only two
plantations; but since that period he has passed fifteen years in
Holland, where he lived in considerable splendour, spent his time amidst
the best society, and entered into all the gaiety and dissipation of the
Hague. After his return to this coast, he occupied himself in
cultivating a large estate called Gorcum, and, personally, engaged in
all the toil and fatigue of a planter. At that time his great amusement,
and the chief relaxation from his labours consisted in domesticating
fishes, and the wild birds of the forest, in which he succeeded to the
astonishment of all who visited his abode.

By whistling when he fed them, he trained the fishes not barely to rise
to the surface of the water at his call, but even to leap from the pond,
and eat out of his hand: and from taking the eggs of the birds and
breeding up their young, or taking the young, and breeding them in the
house, then suffering them to hop out and in at pleasure, and to fly to
the woods as soon as they were able, he taught them to return freely for
food; in which visits they were sometimes accompanied by others, who
came to partake of their fare; and thus by constant feeding and
attention, he, at length, brought many of them to be so tame that they
would fly in at the window of his room, and sit upon pegs, fixed up for
the purpose, to warble a song: or, at his time of dinner, they would
come in, and perch upon his head or his shoulder to participate in his
meal.

You will grieve to hear that after he had built the house, cultivated
the fields, and ornamented the garden—after he had trained the fishes
into acquaintances, and taught the birds to be his companions—in short,
after he had adorned this delightful residence, and fashioned it to his
taste, he was compelled, by hard necessity, to dispose of the
heart-loved abode which his hands had formed, in order to defray the
incumbrances its improvements had created.

Being deprived of his favorite Gorcum, his active mind, ever fertile in
resources, sought new employment in the cultivation of the rude spot
which forms his present home, and which is now so improved as to yield a
large produce in cotton. Until very recently he lived at a different
part of the estate, where he had erected a house, and near to it formed
a garden which yielded a plentiful supply of choice fruits and
vegetables; but from the plantation becoming extensive, he finds it
expedient to establish his residence at a more central part of it: he
has therefore built this romantic cottage, to serve as a temporary home,
from whence he may conveniently superintend the erection of a more
spacious, and more permanent abode, at a spot already marked out for
that purpose.

Of his mode of living the shortness of our visit allowed us but little
opportunity to judge. If not sumptuous, it was at least liberal, for his
garden and estate afford a very ample store of plain and wholesome
provisions. His flocks and herds were numerous, and his plantation
exhibited a more abundant stock of cows, sheep, and poultry, than was
common at other estates. For dinner he gave us both mutton and beef,
each very excellent of its kind. The dessert consisted of eggs and some
uncommonly fine figs. Madeira wine was our drink. This and water form
the whole list of liqueurs at the home of the hospitable Bercheych.
Neither rum, brandy, Hollands, nor any other kind of spirit does he ever
use: beer is not seen at his table: punch he never drinks, and he
remarked that he had, therefore, no occasion for sugar, which is
accordingly unknown in his family as an article of consumption. Not
being in the habit of using any, he does not buy it, nor is a grain of
it to be found in his house. But what will be deemed still more strange,
is that, although a Dutchman, he never smokes; nor has under his roof
either pipes or tobacco.

We were served only by females of colour, of whom M. Bercheych has the
finest assemblage I have yet seen. We learned that it was one of the
peculiarities of our host not to suffer a male to inhabit his house. His
attendants are all of the feminine gender, and, from their hands, both
himself and his guests receive the offerings of his bounty. His habits
are social: but men are only admitted as visitors. In other respects
also he differs from those lonely beings to whom, from its retirement
and simplicity, his neat little cell might have belonged. He is not a
solitary recluse, nor does he deny himself the enjoyments of life. For
the beau sexe he has strong attachments, and he does not hold it needful
to forego his gratifications. His cottage is a rich seraglio—himself the
sultan. A more choice collection of half-naked belles it were difficult
to meet with. They consist of Indians, negroes, mulattoes, and a finely
formed race between the inhabitants of the woods and the blacks. One of
the mulattoes, from her dress and ornaments, appeared to be the reigning
sultana of the day. The number of females about the cottage was sixteen
or seventeen, all well selected, and the most beautiful of their race.
Six or seven of them are of an age to acknowledge the kind smiles of
their lord; the others are advancing towards womanhood, in succession,
so that each in her turn will probably become the favorite slave of
their majestic seignor. A Turkish sultan, gleaning from his best
dominions, might not boast of more inviting forms, or of more obedient
and devoted slaves than these of the stately Bercheych; who has all the
advantage of seeing the virgins of his harem grow up under his own eye,
knowing them to be his sole and absolute property—not merely the slaves
of his passions, but also of his caprice and his fortune.

Among the female property of M. Bercheych we saw an uncommonly handsome
family of negroes, consisting of three generations, very strongly
resembling each other in feature, from the grand-daughter of three years
old, to the grandmother upwards of sixty. They were all well formed, and
in face very unlike the common race of negroes, having neither the thick
lip, the large mouth, nor the wide flat nose. Their lineaments were
regular, their noses prominent, and slightly aquiline, and their teeth
and eyes peculiarly fine. The old woman was strong and healthy, of
active upright figure, and without any marks of advanced age. The
daughter was the cottage-cook, a tall clean-looking woman about thirty
years old, whose countenance and person were strikingly handsome. Four
of the grand-daughters were present—all pretty, and the very images of
the mother and grandmother: the eldest was about sixteen years of age,
and both in face and form by far the loveliest nymph we had seen of her
colour—so beautiful indeed as to dispute the palm of the seraglio. No
doubt the good old grandmother will have early occasion to witness the
further diffusion of her semblance in the fourth generation. The whole
family were peculiarly neat in their persons, and highly respectful in
their behaviour towards others. Although slaves, they were as
respectable, and observed as much of propriety and decorum in their
conduct, as the best regulated domestics of Europe: they did honor to
the excellent regulations and discipline of their owner.

The old gentleman is strict and imperative towards his slaves, but his
government is so tempered with kindness and humanity, that he is obeyed
more from esteem, than from fear or compulsion. In the observances of
politeness Mynheer Bercheych descends to the correctest minutiæ. From
his appearance, his manners, address, and stately carriage, he might
pass for an old English baron. The formal system of bowing, he supports
with the tenacity of a Dutchman. Not a true-born son of all-bowing
hat-lifting Leyden, could be more precisely polite. He requires and
returns a ceremonious salutation every time that he is met by any of his
slaves; not one of whom dares to go by him without being uncovered. A
negro belonging to another planter attempted to pass him, without
offering the necessary salute; he immediately gave him a stripe with his
cane, observing that if he did not know good manners he must be taught;
then turning to us, he said, “Gentlemen, if the lowest slave bow to me,
I take off my own hat in return, because I would not suffer a negro to
show more of politeness and good manners than myself; but if he walk by
me without proper observance, I always deem it right to instruct him
that respect is due to the whites.”

The afternoon glided away very pleasantly, the conversation being
enlivened by the sprightliness and vivacity of our host, who entertained
us with a fund of anecdote regarding a variety of subjects, such as the
negroes and Indians—his own situation and pursuits—his talents in
shooting, as well with the common arrow, and the poisoned arrow, as with
the gun and the pistol—his industry in cultivating new land—his
perseverance in domesticating birds and fishes—the treatment of his
slaves—his conduct respecting his son, and many other topics. We found
him a well-bred intelligent man, and were pleased to remark, that
although he lives in a manner secluded from the world, amidst wild men
and slaves, and uncultured beings of various crosses and complexions,
giving loose to his favorite passion, and indulging his appetites in all
their native freedom, he still preserves the dignity of a gentleman, and
displays all the superiority of a well-educated and enlightened mind.
From his manners, and his years, he is highly respectable, as also from
his talents, and unwearied industry. The first impression, arising from
his figure and address, is that of a stern justice of the peace, or a
rigid country esquire of the old English school: but the reserve of his
exterior is soon removed by the ease and affability of his conversation.
He is particularly well versed in the history and policy of these
settlements, and we derived much instruction and amusement from his
remarks. Indeed we found him altogether so interesting as to wish the
hours we spent in his society could have been lengthened into days, and
were grieved when the moment arrived for taking our departure.

Nothing could exceed the neatness of arrangement which displayed itself
about his little cottage home. Plainness and simplicity prevailed
throughout, but a palace could not be cleaner, nor maintained in greater
order. A small dairy, of exquisite contrivance, was most delicately
fitted up, and appeared delightfully fresh and cool; a little
poultry-yard, enclosed with a fancy paling, was a perfect model of
taste; and every thing around exhibited some mark of excellence—some
testimony of having been improved by the ingenious hand of its
industrious and eccentric owner.

Surrounding the cottage is cut a deep wet fosse, which forms a
protecting barrier, and prevents any person from approaching his
residence, except by passing over a narrow plank placed across the
ditch, directly in front of the dwelling; and so extremely rigid is he
in his exclusion of male-beings, that not even a negro is allowed to
cross this plank without expressly obtaining his leave. In the plan of
the new house which he intends to erect, is an encircling ditch or moat
of fourteen or sixteen feet wide, which he expects will be a complete
defence to his retired seraglio.

From living so much among the Indians M. Bercheych is well acquainted
with their manners and customs, and feels himself quite at home amidst
them. He amused us by shooting with the bow and arrow, and we were
surprised to observe with what accuracy he was able to hit his mark. He
very kindly presented me with some specimens in natural history; also
some of the simple productions of Indian manufacture, and very
obligingly offered to procure me a model of their dwellings, made by the
Bucks.

Delighted with the cottage, and still more interested with the man, we
let the evening close in upon our reluctant departure, and had to avail
ourselves of the moon, as a guide in our return down the river. We
walked some distance at the side of the canal before we came to the
canoe; and were accompanied to the place of embarkation by M. Bercheych,
followed by two of his fine cottage nymphs, who were directed to attend
with some wine-glasses and two bottles of Madeira. One of these was to
be emptied to the success of the new home, on reaching the place, where
it was to be erected: the other was to supply the parting glass on our
stepping into the canoe. These ceremonies were accordingly observed in
due form, and after seeing us safely seated and afloat, the friendly
Bercheych bade us cordially good night, earnestly intreating us soon to
repeat our visit. He then bowed to us as profoundly as on our arrival,
and placing himself between his two tender supporters, trod back his
path in sultanic step, to his sequestered retreat.

The tide being again in our favor, the slaves paddled us with great
speed down the river as far as Mr. Graham’s; where, quitting the canoe,
the major and myself took our chaise, and the other gentlemen their
horses, and we finished this delightful day by a pleasant moonlight ride
across the cotton fields to our quarters.




                               LETTER X.


                                                       Mahaica, Sept. 4.

An opportunity now offers of addressing you by a conveyance which holds
out every probability of my letter reaching you in safety. The 93d and
99th regiments being draughted into the 39th, the officers are about to
return to England, and I commit my letter to the care of one of these
gentlemen, who will be good enough to see it delivered. I wish I could
propose any means equally secure of my receiving tidings from you! But I
am sorry to observe, that all our uncertainties continue. We are still
in the same state of suspense; placed between the two staffs of the
Charibbee islands and of St. Domingo, as if belonging to neither:
expecting daily to be ordered to Hispaniola, yet without any intimation
when we are to be relieved. Under these circumstances, I can only say as
before, continue to address to me at the head-quarters of the St.
Domingo army: I may then have the hope of meeting some day or other all
your remembrances.

Of news you will expect but little from this region. We hold quiet
possession of the colonies which surrendered to us, and the cultivation
and commerce is prosecuted with as much industry as if we were resting
in the bosom of peace. Great numbers of slaves have been imported, since
our arrival, and British property is embarked to extend and improve the
settlements, with no less ardor than might be expected if these valuable
possessions were confirmed to England by a definitive treaty, guaranteed
by the strongest powers in Europe.

I lament exceedingly that it is not in my power to announce to you, by
the present occasion, some progress in the health-improvement which we
are led to anticipate: we observe that the men are most frequently
attacked during, or immediately after exposure to great heat or fatigue.
The more robust and plethoric—those occupied as cooks, or blacksmiths,
boat parties, men engaged in fishing, non-commissioned officers,
sentinels, and those who have acted as servants to officers, have been
most subject to the disease. In particular a boat party, employed to
fetch water down the river for the use of the hospital and the barracks,
have been so invariably attacked in a kind of succession upon that duty,
that it has been found necessary to procure a crew of negroes expressly
for this purpose. It has also been deemed requisite to abandon the
comfort derived from the occasional supply of an article of fresh
provision, in consequence of the men whose business it was to draw the
seine for fish, being found peculiarly susceptible of the fever.

The speed with which the attack succeeds the exposure to great heat and
fatigue is no less remarkable, in many instances, than the rapidity with
which, in these or other cases, the disease runs on to death. Only
yesterday morning, in returning from the hospital to my breakfast, I was
accosted, on passing the soldiers’ barrack, and requested to visit the
drum-major, whom I found dangerously ill with fever; although on my way
to the hospital, but a short time before, I had seen him walking in the
cotton-field apparently, and to his own belief, as well as any man in
the regiment. At the same time I was desired to look at a soldier, who
was lying at the side of the drum-major, and was said to be complaining.
This man also proved to be in a dangerous state of fever, and I learned
that he had been attacked the day before, immediately after hurrying
nearly a mile to fetch some porter. I likewise saw two or three others,
in the same barrack, who had been suddenly taken ill on guard, and were
now about to increase our crowded list at the hospital.

A few days ago, on my passing by the guard-house, I observed a soldier,
named Chapman, sitting among the men who were upon guard, seemingly
unwell; and on my asking him if he felt ill, he answered in a firm
strong voice, that he felt “_a little poorly with head-ach, but not
ill_;” still I perceived that he had more of indisposition about him
than he was aware of, and I was particularly led to notice any symptoms
of disease in this man, from his having been repeatedly an object of
conversation and remark, in health. He was a hardy robust grenadier,
and, from having been much exposed on fatigue-duty, in Ireland, during
the time of the sickness which the troops had experienced at Spike
Island and at Cove; from having supported much of similar duty on the
passage; and also a considerable share since his arrival in the West
Indies, without suffering from it, the officers had pointed him out to
me, as a person who was “secure against _even yellow fever and the
doctors_.” He was sitting in his usual clothing, talking to the men of
the guard, sensible only of slight head-ach, and lassitude; but as I saw
evidently that it was an attack of fever, I hinted, without mentioning
this to him, that it would be better he should go to the hospital, if he
were at all unwell, in order that he might have the benefit of medical
attendance, and of such remedies as his case required. He instantly
expressed great alarm, and said, “_I am not ill: if you take me to the
hospital, I shall catch the fever and die_.” On my stating the
impropriety of his remaining among the men in health, and not using the
proper means of recovery, he replied, “_I am not sick, and only want an
appetite to be quite well_;” and when I urged him further to go into the
hospital, he answered with quickness, “_Indeed I am not bad, and if I
were, I would rather stab myself at once, than go where so many are
dying every day of yellow fever_.” Poor fellow! he was wholly
unconscious, that the disease, he so much dreaded, was upon him; and as
I found that his terror of the hospital was quite insurmountable, I did
not augment his alarm, either by insisting upon his being carried
thither, or by telling him that the fever had already seized him; but in
order that he might be removed from the guard-room, I gave directions
for a hammock to be put up under the piazza of the house, where he might
be in quiet, and alone. This being done, without delay, I prevailed upon
him to go directly, and lie down, and was glad to see him safe in bed;
for, in my conversation with him, I had discovered enough to cause
strong apprehensions lest he should die, before we could have him
removed! Although he felt so little of illness, and those around him
were so wholly insensible of his peril, there was an indescribable
something about him, particularly in his countenance, which bespake
extreme danger; and from which an experienced observer might see that he
was soon to die! After having him placed in the hammock, and prescribing
for him such remedies as were necessary, I instructed the medical
gentleman, who had lately arrived at this post to give me assistance, to
pay particular attention to his case, remarking, that from his present
appearance, I should not be surprised if, in the course of an hour or
two, I should learn that he was dead. The event verified my suspicions:
a convulsive tremor quickly seized him, and at noon he was a corpse!
Such are the fevers of this climate! Often a man is well in the morning,
and at night is no more: nor is it possible for any one, who has not
seen many cases of the disease, to judge of the degree of danger which
threatens those who are attacked. Chapman had been one of the party
employed to drag the fishing-net in the sea, and I have been the more
minute in relating his case, because, in him, the circumstances I have
mentioned were strikingly exemplified. He was a man who possessed great
strength of constitution; he had been exposed to the heat of the sun
immediately previous to the attack; and was very rapidly destroyed by
the disease.

But you will tell me not to dwell on tales of sadness and distress; I
obey, and hasten to lead you to a scene of gladness, in which I am sure
your heart will cordially participate. I had ordered the convalescents
to be assembled, from all the different wards and hospitals, and paraded
upon the beach, that I might carefully inspect them, in order to
ascertain the number fit to be removed to a distant post for change of
air and place; and to give room at the hospital for the better
accommodation of the sick; and the pleasure which I witnessed upon the
countenances of these poor men, and which throbbed at my own heart, on
the occasion, was far greater than words can tell. A very considerable
number of pale, feeble, and emaciated beings were brought together, and,
being drawn up, on the parade, they hailed each other, in cheerful
greetings, like men raised from the dead. Joy gladdened every eye; the
comrade hailed his friend as one returned from the grave; all were
happy, and the delight of again seeing each other, shone in every face.
The meeting was an exhilarating cordial to them. Mirth and liveliness
spread around; wit and rapartee prevailed; and they addressed one
another in quaint jokes, and comic gratulations, descriptive of their
late dangers, and their present escape. This effect of bringing them
together gave me great satisfaction: seeing so numerous a body saved
from the very jaws of death, I was no less gratified than the happiest
of the party. Their appearance was distressful, and their pallid ghastly
visages, and wasted figures, to men less conversant with the more
direful examples of disease, might have conveyed the idea of speedy
dissolution, rather than of approaching health: but, to those who had
themselves been in a far worse state, and who had long been lying,
surrounded with the sick and the dying, nothing in their looks could be
dispiriting, whilst they and their comrades were able to support
themselves upon their legs.

We are told by the planters, that since the arrival of the English in
these settlements, the people of colour are grown unusually disobedient,
and even insolent; which is attributed to our being more lenient towards
them, than their Dutch masters were. Whether or not this he admitted as
the cause, several recent instances have occurred in proof of the fact,
and which have made it necessary to use means of correcting their
presumption. Consistently with the rules of the fort, the officer on
guard is instructed to examine every vessel that passes; but some boats
going from Mahaica creek, worked by people of colour, have resisted the
orders of the guard, and, in defiance of the sentinel, attempted to pass
without bringing to.

We are informed that a system of smuggling was carried on to a great
extent upon this coast, previous to its falling into our possession, and
that a very considerable proportion of the produce found its way to the
English market, notwithstanding the watchfulness of the Dutch local
government: possibly it was from this adventurous traffic that the
slaves acquired a disrespect of orders, rather than from the lenity of
the present rulers of the colonies.




                               LETTER XI.


                                                  La Bourgade, Sept. 12.

The delayed departure of the officers whose regiments have been
draughted, affords me an opportunity of addressing to you some
additional notes by the same conveyance. They have been detained in the
expectation that some of them might have remained with the 39th
regiment, in order to have increased its strength in officers, in
proportion to its increase of privates; but the Commander in Chief not
acceding to this arrangement, they are all ordered to embark, without
loss of time, for England, and to take with them the sergeants and
drummers; yet, on account of the extreme urgency of this sickly period,
and the very limited number of assistants we have for hospital duty, we
are allowed to detain the surgeon and mate of the 99th regiment; without
whom, indeed, we must have been reduced to the greatest distress; for
the surgeon of this corps has been my best support from the time of our
arrival, being the only commissioned medical officer I have had with me,
during the whole of our busy service.

Respecting the destination of the other gentlemen of the hospital staff
and myself, I have nothing new to add. Incertitude is still the order of
the day. We remain without receiving either pay or allowances, and
subsist almost wholly upon our salt rations. Fortunately this is one of
the few countries where but little money is required, or I should rather
say, where if a man had much, it might be difficult to spend it. Fruit
and vegetables are abundant, but the riches of Crœsus could not procure
a regular supply of fresh animal provisions for our table. For my own
part I am become so much a creole, and so fond of plantains, that I
should experience but little hardship if these were the only food.

You will perceive from this letter, that I have again changed my home.
After I had separated the happy group of convalescents from the sick,
and removed them to distant quarters upon the coast, I left the patients
then remaining at Mahaica under the care of Mr. Ord, acting surgeon to
the 39th regiment, and returned to take charge of the hospital, at our
greater depôt at La Bourgade. With infinite satisfaction I feel myself
able to inform you that the high malignity of the disease begins to
yield to the approach of a more benign season. Since my return hither,
several patients have been admitted, in whom the fever appears under an
intermittent type. If it were possible to divest myself of the regret I
feel on account of the poor men’s sufferings, and from our sick list
being, by any cause, increased, I might truly say that I received these
cases with pleasure, hailing them as a pledge that our worst foe has run
his career; for, if the fever should assume a _remittent_, or an
_intermittent_ course, we shall know how to oppose ourselves to its
progress, and to prevent it from repeating the devastations it has
committed in its _continued_ form.

Still the hospital is sadly crowded, and, from the return made to me of
the last week, the proportion of casualties does not seem to be yet
diminished; but they now proceed less from cases recently admitted, than
from the lingering remains of more violent disease. At the same time I
may remark, that it is only from receiving a considerable proportion of
intermittents, at once, that we are led to hope the fever is changing to
a milder type, for repeated examples occurred, at Mahaica, of different
patients being brought to the hospital at the same period, with the
disease under all the varied forms of _intermittent_, _remittent_, and
_continued_ fever, yet each of them were occasionally converted into the
most malignant “_yellow_ fever,” and rapidly terminated in death.

Amidst all the afflicting histories of this destructive malady, I should
rejoice exceedingly if it were in my power to report to you more
favorably of the patients under surgical treatment in our hospital; but,
unhappily, at the moment of our greatest pressure and anxiety regarding
the fever, our services are most called for by the patients with sores
and ulcers, who likewise feel the sad effects of climate and of season.
In speaking upon this subject, I ought to add that the attention of Mr.
Blackader, the surgeon, has been unremitted; and that his abilities are
not less eminent than his zeal. His patients have been watched with a
tender care, and he has been indefatigable in his endeavours to relieve
them; the more so from their sufferings having been peculiarly the
subject of our conversation. We are willing to hope that the unhappy
difficulties he has met with, in his practice, may be more the effect of
season than of climate, and that as the fevers grow milder with finer
weather, the wounds and ulcers will also assume a more healthy
disposition.

Whether from a wound, a scratch, the bite of a musquito, or the simplest
excoriation, the progress of the sore has been the same. It seems, at
first, to go on kindly, gradually advancing in a healing state, but
before it is quite well, the patient loses his appetite, feels sickly,
or is attacked with a febrile paroxysm, and sinks into a state of
relaxation and debility; with the skin and muscles flaccid, the
countenance pale, and the whole frame languid, and weak. The ulcer
partaking of the general change grows black and foul, and, sloughing
away, becomes wider and deeper than it was at first. After a time, the
patient recovers his lost strength, and by the aid of bark, wine, and
tonics, the part again assumes a healthy aspect, florid granulations
form, and the healing process is renewed. Proceeding now as before it
often reaches that state, which creates the daily hope of a new cuticle
forming over it to complete the cure: but a febrile exacerbation again
seizes the patient, and the whole disastrous round is repeated. The
disease extends itself still wider than before, and the energies of the
system being further impaired, it is longer ere it throws off its
foulness, to take on a clean and healthy appearance. Yet this does
follow, and the now wide and ragged sore again begins to heal. The
patient likewise recovers a degree of strength, but remains considerably
weakened. The healing of the wound advances, though slowly, and again
holds out fair prospects to the miserable sufferer; but, before it has
cicatrized with new skin, he relapses, the ulcer blackens, becomes foul
and offensive, and the parts around slough away to a frightful extent;
the patient sinking far below his former debility. He next recovers but
a slight degree of strength; and the sore only clears itself to widen
its ravages; the appetite is destroyed; extreme lassitude prevails;
cough, and hectic fever supervene; and the patient lingers out a few
wretched weeks, until death kindly offers him relief. Often the event is
more rapid; but it happens not unfrequently that the patient is deluded
three, four, or more times with the fairest prospect of recovery, then,
suddenly and without any apparent cause, is thrown back, growing more
and more feeble from each attack, until every energy of the constitution
is exhausted.

Having witnessed, with extreme pain, the cruel sufferings of this class
of our patients, we are particularly happy to avail ourselves of the
present return of the officers, to put a party of sick, from the
surgical wards, under their protection to England, where they will have
the chance of speedy recovery, and of soon returning to their duty. As
our hospitals will be thus considerably relieved, I shall be the better
enabled to spare the services of Mr. Beane, one of our most useful
assistants, whom I have placed on board to take charge of them upon the
passage. I should remark that the season proves almost equally sickly
among the Dutch troops as the English, although far less fatal. With the
Hollanders the fever has been milder, and of a remittent type, giving
way to the common treatment used in what is termed the bilious remittent
fever of the country. The Dutch surgeon-major, who has been many years
in the colony, is now upon the sick list; but, in him, the fever appears
as an intermittent. On calling to visit him, I found him in a regular
paroxysm of ague, the form which the fever very commonly assumes among
the creoles, and the negroes.

We have lately had the misfortune to be deprived of another of our
assistants, but his loss was the effect of accident. He was stationed at
Maiconuy, where he was in the habit of bathing frequently in the river.
One evening, as he was taking his favorite exercise of swimming across
to the opposite bank, he suddenly disappeared, and was seen no more. We
do not learn that any one was in the water with him at the time, but
those who have since been here, from that post, inform us that it was
generally attributed to an alligator seizing him, and suddenly dragging
him down.

The return of our comrades to England gives me an opportunity of sending
you the first copy of a new periodical paper, just published in this
colony, called the Demarara Gazette. You will find from the composition
no less than from the printing, and the paper, that it is quite an
original.

But what will you say of our growing importance when I tell you, that we
have not only a newspaper established, to afford us all the advantages
of a speedy circulation of intelligence; and a strong regiment of black
rangers, raised for the defence of the colony; but that we have also a
colonial corps, formed from among the respectable part of the
inhabitants, for the mutual protection of each other’s property, and for
the general defence of the settlement.




                              LETTER XII.


                                                     Demarara, Sept. 30.

Alas, my friend! the unwilling expectation is at length fulfilled, and I
now lift my pen with a hand trembling and enfeebled, almost beyond the
power of supporting even a feather! The disease which has committed such
devastations amongst us, has dealt me a blow, which all, who witnessed
it, believed to have fallen from the hand of death; and, indeed, the
shock had nearly brought me to the still home from whence there is no
return. But let me not trespass upon your friendly sympathy by dwelling
upon the dark shade of the picture: let me rather hasten to tell you,
that the danger is past—that I am a convalescent from a severe attack of
the “_yellow_” fever, and am looking towards returning health.

You will expect the particulars: I proceed therefore to lay before you
the history of the case, whilst all the circumstances of it are fresh in
my recollection, although, in truth, I feel them too deeply engraven
ever to be effaced. In perusing them, you will discover that the
invasion of the disease was not less insidious, than its progress has
been dangerous. On Saturday the 17th inst. excepting only the time
occupied in my morning and evening visits at the hospital, I sat the
whole of the day in my room, busily employed in writing. In the evening
I felt an aching sensation in the middles of my thighs, which I
attributed to sitting so many hours upon a rough wooden chair. At
tea-time I joined the gentlemen of the hospital mess, and afterwards
invited the surgeon to accompany me in a promenade, hoping to walk away
the uneasy weight which I felt in my limbs; but the exercise failing of
success, I bathed and went early to bed, not suspecting the enemy that
lurked in my veins. But I was again disappointed; for, instead of being
relieved by sleep, a severe head-ach and pain of the eyes, with great
thirst and dryness of mouth, supervened, and I passed a disturbed and
restless night. Awakened suspicion now taught me that I was attacked by
an evil much more formidable, than the wooden stool; I therefore took
some medicine, and remained in bed until noon: yet from having, several
times, experienced similar symptoms, and nearly equal in degree, whilst
I was on duty at Mahaica, I was willing to believe that it might be only
a false alarm. The medicine produced some benefit; I sat up during the
afternoon, and in the evening made my visit, as usual, at the hospital:
but feelings of languor and general indisposition were hovering about
me, and I returned to my pillow at an early hour, again hoping that
sleep would bring me a cure; but a most wretched night unveiled the
delusion. All the symptoms of disease were highly aggravated, and I was
assured that I had now to oppose, in my own person, the insatiate foe,
whose ravages, upon others, I had so frequently deplored. No time was to
be lost. All the powers of my body seemed to have deserted me; but the
faculties of my mind were unimpaired.

The disorder now rushed upon me with accumulated force, hurrying on
towards rapid destruction. The light was intolerable, and the pulsations
of the head and eyes were most excruciating, feeling as if several hooks
were fastened into the globe of each eye, and some person, standing
behind me, were dragging them forcibly from their orbits, back into the
head; the cerebrum being, at the same time, detached from its membranes,
and leaping about violently within the cranium. A wearying pain occupied
my back and limbs, and in particular the calves of my legs, as if dogs
were gnawing down to the bones; while a tormenting restlessness
possessed my whole frame, and prevented even the slightest approach to
ease or quiet. The skin was burning, and conveyed a pungent sensation
when touched: the pulse was quickened but not very full: the tongue was
white and parched, with great thirst, and constant dryness of the mouth,
lips, and teeth. I know not from which I suffered most, the severe pain,
the insatiable thirst, or the unappeasable restlessness; for each was
equally insupportable, and might have sufficed to exhaust the strongest
frame. Combining their tortures, they created a degree of irritation
amounting almost to phrensy; and which, but for the means used to
alleviate it, must have destroyed me in a few hours. No ease was to be
found: not even a momentary respite was granted from this excessive
torment. It was under these symptoms that I requested the surgeon to
take twelve or fourteen ounces of blood from my arm, and to give me a
strong dose of calomel. This was on Monday morning the 19th inst. the
attack having commenced on the evening of Saturday the 17th. The pain of
the head and eyes was considerably relieved by the bleeding; the
restlessness was also in a slight degree diminished; but the thirst,
with heat and dryness of skin, still continued. I drank copiously of
mild diluents, and the calomel acted freely as an evacuant: still I had
no rest, but passed a third night in extreme suffering. On the 20th the
pain was less severe, and the light less intolerable; but the other
symptoms of fever remained, together with an increased degree of languor
and debility: I therefore avoided further evacuations, and took a saline
medicine with camphire. The night was, again, most painfully restless,
sleep was wholly denied me, and I felt myself sinking into a most
perilous exhaustion.

In the morning of the 21st I was free from the high action of fever; the
heat and pain had subsided, the pulse was less quick, and I was in a
copious perspiration: but the whiteness of tongue remained, with an
irritating and unquenchable thirst; and in proportion as the more
violent symptoms abated, others, equally distressing supervened. My
strength and voice were gone; an indescribable uneasiness affected my
whole body; I was attacked with an exhausting diarrhœa; felt a most
annihilating sensation at the scrobiculus cordis; and sunk into an
inconceivable degree of languor and prostration.

The day and night were passed in a wearisome and distressing manner; and
with my bodily powers so rapidly declining, that I was more and more
enfeebled every hour. On the 22d scarcely a hope remained of my
recovery. Every energy of the system seemed to be subdued; debility had
reached its extremest degree; and it appeared to require only a sigh to
sever the thread of life.

I was now so reduced as to be no longer able to support myself upon my
side, in bed; but lay supine, and prostrate, with my flaccid limbs
stretched in full extension, and which, if they were lifted from their
place, fell lifeless upon the same spot. A weakening diarrhœa continued,
and a still more debilitating vomiting was superadded. Upon the
slightest motion I fell into syncope, and was so exhausted as to faint
if my head were raised from the pillow. My fauces were parched and dry;
I had extreme thirst, together with a feeling of languor and sinking at
the epigastrium, and a degree of restlessness over my whole frame, which
it is utterly impossible to describe.

Thus situated, I contemplated the probable event, and having calmly
reconciled the thought of dying, I endeavoured, in broken whisper, to
utter a few words to the surgeon, for him to commit to paper as my will;
to which, with his guidance, a feeble and trembling hand traced my
signature, but in characters which I now find to be scarcely legible.
This ceremony was executed with the greatest composure of mind; for I
was never more collected, or more tranquil. Death seemed to look me full
in the face, at the time; but I received his commands without a
disturbed emotion. In soft and tender regret, indeed, I lamented that I
could not see my friends in England; nor cast a look of grateful
affection upon my beloved mother, before I departed; but these
privations, deeply sorrowful as they were, yielded also to what seemed
to be the will of Heaven; and, in tranquil resignation, I breathed a
dying blessing to you all. Still I felt that I ought not to reject such
means of relief as my profession offered, whilst even a possibility
remained of being saved; I made myself understood therefore, by Mr.
Blackader, and expressed a wish to have large quantities of bark and
opium, with wine, and the cold bath. Colonel Hislop, the commanding
officer, actuated by the most amiable feelings, very kindly expressed a
wish that I should be visited by some of the medical gentlemen of the
country. This was a proposal to which I could form no possible
objection; although my own sensations had dictated the remedies which I
meant to employ. Two of the most eminent practitioners of the colony
were accordingly requested to see me, and it were ungrateful not to
express the acknowledgments I owe them for their friendly attention and
advice. Happily their opinions coincided very much with my own,
respecting the means to be used in the stage of the disease under which
they saw me; and they approved of every part of my prescription, the
cold bath only excepted. I was wholly incapable of conversing with them,
but their remarks to Mr. Blackader did not escape my ear.

The fierce ardor of fever, the painful throbbing of the head and eyes,
and the pungent dryness of skin, were very much diminished, and the
pulse, though enfeebled, was not much quicker than in health. The
prescribed remedies were used with great freedom. Happily the opium
quickly arrested the retching, and also the diarrhœa; which allowed the
bark and wine, and bathing to be employed with less reserve; and I
persevered with such effect, that in the course of only a few hours, I
had no less than _six ounces_ of the powder of bark (swallowed and
otherwise administered) and a bottle of sound old hock remaining in my
stomach and bowels.

Of the wine and bathing I know not in what terms to speak, for language
has no power to express the delightful sensations which these most
grateful remedies conveyed to my exhausted frame. I was more refreshed
by them, more revived, and more relieved, than words can tell. To the
bark and opium I was perhaps quite as much indebted, but their effects
were less immediate, and less sensible. For many years I had not tasted
wine; now I was to take it as a medical potion; and, in order to rank it
high in this character, the commissary had kindly sent me some very
choice _old hock_, which, in great truth, was both food and medicine to
me! The peculiar and exquisite sensations I experienced, when the first
glass of it wetted my parched lips, and cooled my burning stomach, will
be remembered to my latest hour.

The bathing was scarcely inferior to the wine, for at a moment when
ineffable languor was rapidly sinking my weakened body to the grave, I
was lifted out of my bed, into an empty bathing-tub, and cold sea water
was dashed upon my naked person, with an effect which exceeds all
description. Not only were the sensations of the moment inconceivably
refreshing and delightful, but the more durable and important benefits
were equally striking. Previous to bathing I fainted, on my head being
only lifted up from the pillow; but after being taken out of the
bathing-tub, I was able, with due support, to sit up for nearly ten
minutes, while three persons, with rough cloths, rubbed me dry.

Although I was not delirious, I perceived a peculiar sense of confusion,
or horror about me at various times during this day, and lapsed
occasionally into a sort of stupor, approaching to coma, but it did not
proceed to such a degree as to deprive me of consciousness; the powers
of memory and volition were still at my command; and, when I was roused,
it was remarked that my mental faculties were unimpaired: and, as a
proof that I was not insensible to what passed in the room, I may tell
you that I felt, with full force, all the probability of the remark, and
was too well aware how strongly appearances might justify it, when I
heard some of the officers exclaim, as they turned away, after silently
looking at me through my musquito curtain, “_Ah, poor doctor! we shall
never see him again!_”

This had been my worst day: the feelings of the night I cannot attempt
to describe! All was horror, horror, restless deadly horror! The
sickened mind became unsettled as its troubled mansion, and, like the
body, was only sensible to disease and wretchedness.

The dawn of the next day seemed like an introduction to a new existence.
The indescribable and distressing sensations, which had so cruelly
afflicted me, were in some degree diminished, and the violence of the
other symptoms was slightly moderated:—an important change indeed! But,
however happy, it was such as no man need be anxious to experience.
Circumstanced as I then was, to me it had all the semblance of a change
from death to life: but with such extreme misery and horror was it
accompanied, that, could these have continued many hours longer, life
would have been bought at too dear a purchase, to have regained it at
such a price. The mind was crowded with confused and incoherent ideas,
painting the world as new, and altogether different from that which I
seemed to have so lately left; indeed, so distorted and unnatural did
every thing around me appear, that I felt a kind of hesitation whether
to accept of my return to life, or proceed onward to the grave, which I
saw wide open before me. This was the sixth day. The morning was dark
and gloomy, and highly calculated to favor the sombre impressions of my
mind. The whole day, and a sad long night were dragged out in all the
tumult and distress of regaining an existence, which only a day or two
before, I could have given up almost without a sigh.

After I had escaped from these distracting incoherences, I perceived the
symptoms of the disease gradually declining, and, by persisting in the
use of my remedies, I am become better reconciled to the world, and
again recognise it as the same which I had so quietly resigned. I
continued to drink most liberally of old hock, and took the bark in
unmeasured quantity, the extent and frequency of the dose being limited
only by the power of the stomach and bowels to retain it. The bathing
was also repeated with inexpressible comfort to my languid and trembling
frame. I took also copious draughts of bottled porter, which I found to
be an exceedingly grateful and refreshing drink, as well as one of my
most effectual remedies.

The thirst and dryness of the mouth, lips, and teeth continued to annoy
me until the eighth day. Great languor and prostration of strength were
still present on the ninth; as were likewise, at intervals, the
distressful sensations of horror and wretchedness. On the tenth, the
return of strength was perceptible, although I had much dizziness, and
faintness, and was afflicted with a troublesome deafness, which is still
the companion of my convalescence. Since the tenth day my recovery has
been very rapid. The debility is not so great as might have been
expected, and my appetite is strong and craving. Dainties in eating are
not to be had, and fortunately I do not require them; for no turtle
feast was ever enjoyed with greater relish than I now take, at noon, my
plain English fare, of a crust of bread, with a morsel of cheese, and a
deep draught of bottled porter.

Many apologies are due for troubling you with this tedious detail of
_self_; for sadly tedious I fear you will find it, notwithstanding my
having confined my pen, as much as possible, to a bare narration of the
feelings I experienced, and the perils I had to encounter. During the
whole course of the disease, I have not had any mark of yellowness—that
symptom from which the fever has been, erroneously, named.




                              LETTER XIII.


                                Plantation Hope, Mahaica, Oct. 21, 1796.

If I had not already endeavoured to do justice to the universal
hospitality which prevails in these colonies, I might enumerate, in
proof of it, the many instances of friendly attention which I have
experienced during the convalescence from my late attack of fever. Every
table was at my command, every house my home, and every planter my
friend. If it were not an injustice to particularize, I might mention to
you the signal obligations I owe to Captain Mac-Rae, one of the
gentlemen of the colony, now holding a company in the corps of South
American rangers, and to his brother, from whose house I have now the
pleasure to address you. The captain made me daily visits, and watched
me with all the care of fraternal solicitude, during my sickness; and as
soon as he saw me able to be moved, he not only proposed that I should
make his brother’s house my convalescent abode, but, without any trouble
or concern on my own part, provided me the means of conveyance, and
himself accompanied me hither; where I have been received with the most
cordial welcome, entertained with unaffected urbanity, and, I may say,
nursed with sincere and affectionate attention by his brother; for not
only have all the accommodations of the house been mine, but the
friendship of this generous man has led him to procure also the best
restoratives of the neighbourhood for the re-establishment of my health,
and the recovery of my lost strength.

Since my arrival here, I have felt very strong symptoms of relapse, but,
by the powerful aid of bark and Madeira wine, the threatened return of
fever has been successfully resisted. I had been strongly cautioned, by
the gentlemen of the colony, to “beware of _the springs_,”—implying that
the disease would be likely to renew its attack at the full of the moon:
I was prepared, therefore, to meet the first uneasy sensations with the
appropriate remedies. On the 14th instant my head was in pain, my limbs
ached, and I had general feelings of languor and restlessness; when,
recollecting the remark so often made to me, and which had been in some
measure confirmed by my own observations in the hospitals, I turned to
the almanack, and found that the moon was to be at the full on the
sixteenth: without delay, therefore, I had recourse to the bark, and
drank a twofold portion of wine, but the symptoms continued to menace me
with a renewal of fever until the eighteenth, after which they subsided,
precisely as I had been assured would happen, with _the decline of the
spring-tides_.

I am extremely sorry to inform you that, since my last letter giving you
an account of my own illness, Mr. Blackader, to whose unwearied
attentions I was so essentially indebted during my confinement, has
received a rude visit from our common enemy: at the same time it gives
me sincere pleasure to add that he is recovered, and that the disease
has been slighter, and his sufferings less severe, than in my own case;
which I think we are justified in attributing to the attack being less
insidious, and his having been twice blooded within the first twelve
hours of the disease. We were both of opinion that if I had used
venæsection earlier I should have suffered less, and it is probable that
if I had not been blooded at all, I should not have held the pen to you
now: accordingly we employed our means with more boldness and
promptitude, when Mr. Blackader was seized, and thereby prevented the
consuming action of the fever from producing the still more destructive
symptoms of exhaustion. Others, I am aware, might tell you that the
extreme languor and prostration of strength, which sunk me so near to
the grave, were _induced_ by the bleeding; although I feel but little
doubt that they proceeded from the _neglect_ of it, and were the effect
of the exhausting symptoms which prevailed at the commencement of the
disease; but which might have been moderated by an earlier loss of
blood, and prevented from throwing the system into a state of debility,
which rendered my situation nearly as hopeless as it was alarming. After
all, I lament that this is only matter of opinion, however much
experience may have confirmed it, in my mind, as an established fact.

It is now said to be the short dry season; but within the few last days
we have had many heavy showers of rain, and more wet has fallen than is
common in this month. Still the weather, and our muddy roads are greatly
improved, and what is more important, we have far less of sickness. On
my removal, from La Bourgade to Mr. Mac-Rae’s, I resumed my attendance
at the Mahaica hospital, and I have great satisfaction in being able to
remark that the number of patients is not one-sixth so great, nor their
diseases by any means so malignant, as when I was here before.

Since my arrival at my friendly convalescent quarters, at the Hope, two
circumstances have offered to my notice, which afford very striking
examples of the character of slaves, and which you would not excuse me
if I were to omit noting. A French privateer, which, for some time past,
had been lurking about the leeward coast of these colonies, had captured
a considerable number of small vessels, and, in particular, several
which the planters had been in the habit of sending down to Essequibo to
fetch plantains, as provisions for the slaves. Among these, two boats
lately fell into their hands, belonging to Mr. Kendall and Mr. Green,
the latter of whom resides not far distant from the Hope; but on account
of the privateer not having hands enough, on board, to man all her
prizes, the negroes of Mr. Kendall’s boat were put on board that
belonging to Mr. Green, and three or four sailors sent from the
privateer to carry them into Trinidad. On the passage the Frenchmen
talked much to the negroes about _liberty_, _equality_, and the _rights
of man_, in all the common jargon of the revolution; holding out to them
the high enjoyment of gaining their freedom; and assuring them that they
would be carried from Trinidad to Guadaloupe, where they would be
released from their slavery, become fellow-citizens, and remain in
future _their own masters_. But these poor blacks, having been treated
with great kindness and humanity by their owners, and not having been
bred in the modern Gallic school, could not be made to comprehend the
fascinating doctrine of _equality_. They rejected therefore the
proffered _French liberty_; and instead of rejoicing, as it was supposed
they would, to accept their freedom from the hands of these
revolutionists, they concerted a plan to rescue the boat, and take it
back to their masters; in which attempt they met with complete success;
but unhappily it was attended with that savage inhumanity which
characterizes the Africans. A little before they came within sight of
Trinidad they seized an opportunity of rising upon the Frenchmen, and,
not satisfied with subduing them, they murdered every one of them, and
threw their mangled bodies into the sea: then, like faithful slaves, put
the boat about, and made the best of their way up the coast, returning,
much pleased, to their owners, and to their task of slavery. The party
consisted of five negroes belonging to Mr. Kendall, and three (two men
and a boy) belonging to Mr. Green. On my asking them why they did not
bring the Frenchmen on shore as prisoners, instead of killing them,
their reply spake one of the unhappy truths of slavery, and proved that
the lives of these unfortunate Frenchmen were sacrificed to an unjust
law always operating against the negroes. “_Ah Massa_,” said they, “_we
’fraid ’em tell lies upon us, and him people always believe backra man
sooner as negro ... so we tink it best for kill ’em all_.” These poor
slaves were aware that against the evidence of a white man, whether it
were true or false, they could not be heard; therefore, to prevent the
possibility of any incorrect reports of their prisoners operating to
their prejudice, they deemed it wise to secure themselves the privilege
of giving their testimony in the cause of truth, by destroying those
whose voices might have prevented it.

The other circumstance was likewise one in which the blacks were equally
true to each other, and equally acted in concert; but it was in a widely
different case. Two negroes who had stolen a trunk from their master,
containing clothes, a brace of pistols, and a pocket-book, with notes
and bills to the amount of 2000_l._ submitted repeatedly to severe
punishment, and would probably have suffered death, rather than have
broken the faith which they had pledged to one another: but a wily old
slave, by means of a well-devised stratagem, obtained a confession of
the theft from each of them, separately; and prevented the necessity of
extorting it, by a further infliction of the chastisement.




                              LETTER XIV.


                                             La Bourgade, Nov. 17, 1796.

For some time past we have been anxiously looking for news from England.
Papers are at length arrived, and we read, that instead of drawing nigh
to a peace, we are only now entering upon a wide-spreading war.

By inspecting the map you will find that our situation upon this coast
is now rendered peculiarly interesting. The Spaniards are on our left,
to leeward; the Dutch and French to windward, on our right; close in our
rear are heavy and impenetrable forests, inhabited by wild and naked
tribes; and our whole front is bounded by the open sea. Our new foes,
the Dons, will have more cause of alarm from us, than we can possibly
have from them: being to leeward of us, we shall be able to run down, at
any time, and surprise them at Trinidad, or the Caraccas: whereas it
might require a voyage of many days for them to make their passage,
against the trade winds, far enough to annoy us with any effect:
further, the superiority of our fleet gives us so entirely the command
of the coast, that the Spanish vessels may be expected to afford a
plentiful harvest to our sloops and privateers.

An express, announcing the arrival of a reinforcement of medical
officers from Martinique, called me, somewhat suddenly, from my
hospitable quarters, at Mahaica. On hearing that these gentlemen were
come, the suggestion naturally occurred, that it was a detachment from
the hospital staff of the Charibbee islands, sent to relieve the
division of the St. Domingo staff, and to set us at liberty to proceed
to our original destination: but, so far from this being the case, the
reinforcement consists only of a garrison surgeon and a mate; and
instead of orders being sent us to set off for St. Domingo, I have
received copies of hospital papers, and instructions for my guidance, in
directing the duties of the medical department of these colonies.

I now feel it a severe mortification, that I should have so long
arranged for my letters to be sent to St. Domingo; but I hope to be more
fortunate in saying ... write to me _at Demarara_.

Of myself I need not speak, for my strength is so rapidly returning that
I scarcely belong either to the list of sick or convalescents. My
comrade, Mr. Blackader, is also growing strong, and forgetting his
invalid feelings; but Mr. Jordan, one of my assistants, has suffered a
late attack, from which, after much danger, he is only slowly
recovering. Having before mentioned to you the circumstance of the
relapses of fever corresponding remarkably with the periods of the moon,
I may now tell you, that the fact was particularly noticed in the case
of this gentleman. He suffered a relapse during his early convalescence,
and it was remarked that, on the same day, four of the patients in the
hospital had a renewed attack of the fever. This coincidence led us to
look at the almanack, when it was found to be the day previous to the
change of the moon.

Mr. Blackader with our recovering assistant and myself, all in different
stages of convalescence, having met together a few evenings ago, it
happened that the conversation turned from yellow fever, and other ills,
to the many comforts of dear England. If you could know how gratefully
our minds were absorbed on this inexhaustible subject, and the high
delight which we were led to contemplate, in returning to the tranquil
enjoyments of that happy and salubrious home, you might almost envy us a
long absence, and the danger of never seeing our native island again!

The reports from Martinique, Grenada, and St. Lucie, respecting the
ravages of disease, I am sorry to find, are not more favorable than our
own. The great scourge of the climate has made sad havoc in those
islands, and the medical officers have suffered in full proportion. Of
the physicians who were attached to the windward expedition, four have
already fallen victims to disease, viz. Doctors Riollay, Story, Clifton,
and Suttleworth. With sincere grief I likewise hear of the death of poor
Colonel Gammell, who so lately left us in robust health. In his loss the
service has to lament a most valuable officer. The removal of this
gentleman and his comrades of the 93d regiment from these colonies,
instead of being accompanied with all the comfort which attached to the
prospect of returning to England, seems to have been only the signal of
unhappy events. Whilst they remained together at Berbische, under
Colonel Gammell’s excellent rules of command, the whole of the officers
were singularly healthy, but the suspension of the regular system which
he had maintained, and a total relaxation from duty, together with the
hurry of embarkation, and, perhaps, the liberal glass at parting from
other comrades, while they have unfortunately removed the happy
exemption from disease, which those gentlemen had enjoyed, have also
proved the high utility of a rigid and correct discipline in these
destructive regions.

One of the officers of the 93d died at Demarara, whither he had arrived
from Berbische, preparatory to going on board the ship in which he was
to have proceeded to England: now, we hear of the death of Colonel
Gammell at Martinique: a third officer, of the same regiment, was
prevented from embarking with his comrades by an attack of fever, which
nearly deprived him of life, and which still detains him among us. The
Colonel left Demarara at the time I was lying dangerously ill, and was
one of the friends who, on turning from my bed-side, shook his head, and
despaired of ever seeing me again. Alas! I grieve to find him so correct
in the fact, although his apprehensions did not go to the event
precisely as it occurred; for, little did he expect that it would be my
lot to live, and thus soon deplore his death!

At the La Bourgade hospital, as well as at Mahaica, we feel the effect
of the present dry season, the numbers on our sick list being
considerably less than for several months past; yet the sad remains of
expiring disease have lately afforded us too frequent opportunities of
prosecuting the comparative examinations I before mentioned to you; and
we have availed ourselves of them to a considerable extent. Among the
advantages arising from the late dry weather in these colonies, no one
is more conspicuous than the improvement which it has effected in our
deep and muddy roads. Hitherto they have been intolerably bad; indeed,
on account of the great depth of wet and stiff clay, almost impassable.
At present they are dry, and, from being upon a perfect level, and the
clay being hardened and worn smooth, they are as fine roads, for
travelling, as the very best in England.

Since the weather has been settled, we find the thermometer rise
occasionally at noon as high as 86 or 87: usually it has been from 82 to
85. This climate is perhaps one of the most steady in the world, the
range of the thermometer, upon the cultivated part of the coast, being
only from 11 to 15 degrees. Most commonly the mercury is at 73 at six
o’clock in the morning; and at noon 84. The lowest I have seen it, at
any time, was 72; and the highest 87. From living in constant heat and
relaxation our bodies become highly sensible to cold, and I sometimes
feel my fingers chilly, as in an autumnal morning in England, although
the thermometer be as high as 74.

Since the arrival of the garrison surgeon and assistant, our department
has been further strengthened with the addition of a deputy-purveyor,
and some hospital-mates. These gentlemen are come in good time to enjoy
the evening shade of our toils. We have supported the severe labour and
fatigue of the sickly season without them, and they now find us well
seasoned in our duty, and with our hospitals far less crowded. When we
most wanted them, their services were most required in the islands, and
now we have less occasion for them, they can best be spared. However, I
am busily engaged in making up the returns, and all the necessary
accounts and hospital papers, from the time of our arrival in these
colonies, and shall hope soon to be relieved from one branch of my late
duty, by resigning to our newly arrived deputy-purveyor the business of
his department.

Rumour has lately threatened us with an attack from Surinam, but we feel
no alarm on this subject; having an adequate force to meet the enemy at
sea, and troops enough on shore, to resist any detachment which the
Dutch might be able to send from that colony.

On my way down the coast lately from Mahaica, I observed among the
slaves, what to me was a novelty; although I was told, by a gentleman of
the colony, that it was by no means uncommon. In one of the fields we
passed a gang of negroes employed at their labour, with a female driver
carrying the whip at their backs. On my remarking that it was not a
becoming duty for the _beau sexe_—that the nature of the lady might be
too tender to admit of her correcting the strong; and her arm too feeble
to enable her to chastise the idle; my companion replied, that I was
much mistaken, for, on the contrary, the “_women drivers_” were
sometimes peculiarly severe, and often corrected the stoutest slaves
with no feeble arm.

The following anecdote forces upon my mind a fact which is perhaps
universally observed, viz. that where the population is thin, the
society confined to a few, and the intercourse with other places bounded
by narrow limits, trifles gain importance, and occurrences which, in
themselves, are insignificant, become subjects of conversation, and of
interest.

From the great heat of climate, and the consequent rapidity with which
dead animal matter tends to resume its gaseous form, it is become a
custom here, for the butcher, when he is about to kill beef, to secure
the sale of the whole carcase, before he slaughters the animal: for
which purpose he sends round a ticket or notice informing the
inhabitants when the beef is to be killed, in order that each person may
write down what part, and what quantity he may wish to have. It is
likewise a practice among the Dutch people to give notice when any
person dies, inviting the neighbours to the funeral, by means of a paper
which is commonly superscribed, in conspicuous characters, “_doed
brief_.” A Dutch officer having died, the burial-ticket was despatched
in due form, when a lady who had lately arrived from Barbadoes, reading
the words “doed brief,” put down her name for “twelve pounds and a half
of the buttock.” The messenger proceeding throughout the town with the
notice, the mistake was quickly known in every house, and the gloomy
solemnity of the occasion was interrupted by the various witticisms,
upon the English lady bespeaking twelve pounds and a half of the
Dutchman’s buttock.




                               LETTER XV.


                                                      Demarara, Nov. 30.

How shall I tell you the high delight of this happy week! Need I say
more, than that three letters have reached me from England, being the
first that I have received since leaving my home and my friends! A small
packet was sent to my quarters by the commandant, having come with his
letters from Martinique; and it would require a long absence, from those
you esteem, to enable you to judge of the transport I felt, when, on
fixing my eye on the superscription, I discovered that they were letters
from England. They had been put into the army bag at the war-office, and
being addressed to the head-quarters of the “army in the West Indies,”
were fortunately sent to Martinique instead of St. Domingo, and from
thence forwarded hither.

I have again to announce to you a change of season in these regions.
During the latter part of this month, we have had frequent returns of
rain, and the weather is by no means so clear and fine as it was in
October, and the beginning of November: but we are told that the short
wet season is setting in, which will continue five or six weeks; and
that we are afterwards to expect a long dry season of three or four
months.

I remarked to you before, that in consequence of St. Domingo being far
to leeward, we very seldom receive any news from thence, except by way
of England; but a vessel is now arrived at Demarara, which was some
weeks ago at St. Domingo, and I am sorry to observe that the captain
brings a very afflicting report of the sickness which prevails in that
colony; such, alas! as renders all that we have suffered, here,
comparatively light.

It has again occurred to us to witness a striking coincidence of both
the attack and relapse of fever, with the period of the spring-tides.
Yesterday four of the convalescents in the hospital relapsed into ague,
and to-day five new patients were admitted with the same disease, all of
whom were likewise attacked yesterday, only a few hours before the
change of moon.

I can scarcely excuse myself for committing what I know will be a
trespass upon your feelings; yet I cannot avoid remarking that an
immense field has lately opened to my contemplation—that a huge and
frightful volume has been laid before me, upon the important subject of
army economy; and that I grieve to discover how much the high sentiments
of honor which ought to attach to every military employment, are
sacrificed to personal interest, and a mere traffic for pecuniary gain.
It is lamentable to see how grossly the sacred laws of morality are
outraged; and to know in what various instances the confidence reposed
in the servants of the public is abused. To such an extent is it
carried, in some instances, that a man of integrity and correct
principle is regarded as a noxious weed, which, not kindly taking root
in the corrupt soil where it is planted, many would desire to pluck up
and cast from among them.

What think you of a person holding a commission in his Majesty’s service
gravely recommending to another officer to “_lock up his conscience in a
strong box before he comes out with the army again, and resume it on his
return_?” The reply to his _friendly_ advice, was such as to diffuse a
blush, where, I much suspect, none had been seated for a long time
before; and, I apprehend that, in future, he will be more cautious of
avowing his _very honorable_ sentiments. I wish it could be remarked
that the opinions and conduct of this man are singular: but, alas! there
are too many proofs that they are far, _very far_ from being uncommon:
although but few may be hardy enough to declare them.




                              LETTER XVI.


                                             La Bourgade, Dec. 20, 1796.

With a becoming attention to the health and well-being of our new corps
of Rangers, it has been deemed expedient to remove them from their
encampment, and place them in barracks, in order to protect them from
the rains of the short wet season which now prevails: but unluckily for
the peace and quiet of our neighbourhood, a large building has been
fitted up for their accommodation, close to the quarters of the medical
officers, and we have all the noise, hurry, and confusion of the whole
regiment constantly before us. The scene amidst which we are placed, by
this arrangement, exceeds all conception, for it is of all degrees, and
all varieties: but whether gay or serious, trivial or important, sombre
or ludicrous, it is always noisy and turbulent. The activity and
exertion which are required, to bring such recruits into habits of
method and order, are almost beyond belief. Where the whole, from being
bred up in ignorance and constant toil, are very much upon a parallel
with oxen taken from the plough, you will imagine what the most stupid
of them must be, who form that select body termed the “awkward squad.”
Upon beholding them, when they first assemble, it might seem nearly as
practicable to train a party of mules to carry arms.

The colonel, zealous for their improvement, and desirous to make
soldiers of them as speedily as possible, is indefatigable in his
attentions towards them; and their drills are so frequent as to keep
them in almost perpetual motion.

Frequently the “awkward squad” is led to drill, with a proportion of
non-commissioned officers nearly equal in number to the privates, each
giving the word of command in the most authoritative manner, holding a
short pipe in his mouth, scarcely extending to the point of his nose;
and each busily marching his party to the right and left, backward and
forward, and in every variety of direction, pushing, pulling, and
cuffing them about, as if they were machines, totally devoid of
sensibility.

Even the Indians, whose gravity seldom allows a smile to appear, have
been diverted at the drilling of the black “awkward squad.” A party,
from the woods, came in one day, at the time the regiment was under
arms, and forgetting their usual reserve, expressed symptoms of
amazement on seeing a body of negroes drawn up in a line, with firelocks
in their hands, and clothed in uniform; but their attention was soon
diverted from the great body of the battalion, by observing the _awkward
squad_, whose blundering evolutions seemed to afford them more amusement
than any other occurrence we had witnessed. Indeed it was the first time
we had been able to mark the expression of surprise or curiosity upon
the Indian countenance. The bucks pointed with their arrows to the
unseemly group, making remarks to the buckeen, who, like the men, were
so roused from their indifference as to smile, and seem diverted.

It happened lately that two of the British soldiers who were employed at
the hospital, having been guilty of irregular conduct, were ordered into
confinement; and, from its being near, they were taken to the guard-room
of the rangers, where, upon recovering their sober senses, they felt
extremely shocked at their degraded situation, being prisoners under the
bayonets of negroes, whom they had perhaps buffeted as slaves, or mere
beasts of burden; and were quite indignant on recollecting that the very
men who were now put over them, even since their arrival in the colony,
had toiled all day in the field, goaded as horses or oxen. The
reflection may perhaps serve as an useful lesson to them, and teach them
to avoid similar disgrace in future; but I wish that no unpleasant
jealousies may arise among the different corps of soldiery. Possibly a
strict discipline, and the good conduct of the officers, may divert any
invidious feelings that may be excited, into a generous and laudable
spirit of emulation, and make the varieties of colour and country
subservient to useful and honorable purposes: but it will require no
inconsiderable address to preserve a perfect harmony among blacks and
whites, Dutch, English, and Africans! Still the discordance, alluded to,
is not all that is to be apprehended from training the slaves to arms.
It is a measure which unquestionably provides a strong defence for the
present exigency; but it admits of a question whether it may not be
employing a temporary convenience to establish what may hereafter become
an extensive evil. May it not teach the slaves a fact which will not
readily be forgotten: may they not learn that they are not only the most
numerous, but, also, the strongest party: in short, may it not instruct
them that they are men; and that a single step might ensure to them the
rights of their common nature? Compared to slavery the restrictions of
military discipline are as exquisite freedom; and the negro who has once
tasted it cannot be expected to return quietly to the yoke, and again
expose his back to the whip.

Should the slaves once feel sensible of their power, the effect of this
assurance will not be retarded by any religious or moral consideration.
As my pen is led to this remark, it may not be inappropriate to follow
it by a word upon the total neglect of sacred ordinances which prevails
in these colonies. Knowing that the established religion of the Dutch is
Calvinism, you will be much surprised to learn that all the ceremonies
of the Sabbath are utterly disregarded. No church or temple is to be
found in the settlements; nor have the inhabitants even appropriated any
house, or other building, for the performance of divine service.
Neglecting their own duties to the Deity, they have used no means to
inculcate a sense of religious awe, or of moral conviction, among the
slaves, but have confided the government of these degraded beings solely
to terror, and the whip. Sunday, it is true, has been set apart as a day
of rest, but no solemn ceremony marks it as the Sabbath. Idleness and
merriment alone distinguish it from the other days of the week. It is a
holyday to the negroes, but no part of it is devoted to their moral or
religious improvement: not one hour is appropriated to instruct them, in
the duties we all owe to the Creator; or to teach them the principles
which ought to govern the conduct of man towards man.

Since our arrival a laudable attempt has been made to remedy this
unchristian-like neglect, but such is the force of habit that, hitherto,
the prospect of success cannot be considered as very auspicious. A place
has been appointed for the performance of the duties of the Sabbath,
and, due notice being given, the military chaplain attended to enter
upon the service; the governor likewise made his appearance; but after
waiting for a considerable time, and finding that no further
congregation assembled, they walked quietly home, postponing both
prayers and sermon to a future occasion.

The diminution of sickness affording sufficient room for their
accommodation, the sick soldiers of the Dutch corps in our service, and
those also of the South American Rangers are now received as patients
into the hospital, together with our own troops. This arrangement will
afford us an opportunity of witnessing more precisely the effect of
disease, not simply upon the subjects of different countries, but upon
those who are recently arrived from a colder climate; those who from the
residence of a few years are become in a certain degree acclimated; and
those to whom the heat of this latitude is altogether congenial.

With each change of season our desperate foe seems to fight under an
altered face, or, chameleon-like, to assume a new skin. Very seldom do
we now see the fever attended with that remarkable yellowness by which
it was so commonly distinguished in the months of August and September.
During the late dry season it lost the continued, and took on a
remitting or intermitting form, and the latter type still continues to
be very frequent; but among the recent cases, we have more now that are
rapidly fatal than we had in the finer season of October and the
beginning of November: yet even these rarely exhibit that yellowness of
surface, which has been held so peculiarly characteristic of this
destructive malady.

Many of the sick now fall into a state of coma, and without betraying
any other striking mark of illness—without uttering a complaint or a
groan, sink very rapidly into the arms of death. The countenance becomes
pale; the skin assumes a clay or lead coloured hue; a stupor supervenes;
the patient lies in a state of tranquil insensibility; and, without
yellowness, or the other common marks of the fever, in the course of
only a few days he sleeps to wake no more! Sometimes a few hours
complete the course of the disease, as in a late instance, where almost
the only symptom was a profound coma, and the soldier died within the
short space of twelve hours. If this were a solitary case I am aware how
soon scepticism would convert it into a different disease; but without
disputing for a name, I need only remark that it is far from a rare
instance, for, alas! we have too many examples in proof of its being a
very common mode in which the fever attacks. In others of the cases
which prove fatal, we find hiccough the predominant, and most
distressing symptom: it continues in opposition to every remedy, and, in
a few days, the patient is exhausted, and dies!

Neither public nor extensive libraries were to be expected in these
colonies; but if I had much time for reading, I might sadly lament this
deficiency. After examining with great care and attention all the late
authors that I could collect, I think myself fortunate in meeting with
the publication of Père Labat, a Jesuit, who, so long since as in the
year 1701, wrote a tour through the West India islands, in which he
describes very correctly the epidemic fever of these regions, and gives
an accurate account of his own sufferings under the disease; in the
treatment of which he was twice blooded, venæsection being, at that
time, used as a sovereign remedy.

Amidst our changes of season, I should be highly gratified if I could
report favorably of the improvement in our surgical wards; but of wounds
and ulcers I have still only gloomy tidings to offer: and it is
remarkable that the distress occasioned by these is wholly confined to
the Europeans; for, while the soldiers from England continue to suffer
dreadfully from their sores, the wounds of the Africans, who are lying
in the adjoining beds of the same wards, heal with surprising rapidity,
and are completely cured. Indeed the recovery from sores and ulcers in
this climate is as peculiarly successful among the blacks, as it is the
reverse among the Europeans; the examples in proof of which are
abundant: but not to tire you with tedious histories of cases, I need
only mention one, which has been recently related to me by a most
respectable medical practitioner now in Demarara[1]; and by whom the
treatment of the case was conducted. A negro, being detected in the act
of robbing a plantain-walk, was taken into confinement by the watchmen,
who, in the struggle to secure him, wounded him very desperately upon
the head, neck, and shoulders with a cutlass: which, at one of the
blows, passed through the bones of the scull and the membranes, into the
substance of the brain. In the course of the cure, it happened that the
dressings one day fell from this part, and, the flies gaining access to
the sore, maggots were bred in great numbers within the brain. These
were removed by the professional attendant, who, in picking them out,
was employed for a considerable time, at each of three successive
dressings: still the negro rapidly recovered, and is now alive and well.

I have lately been much diverted with hearing the detail of an intended
publication, for which the writer assures me he is busily collecting
materials. It is to be entitled the “History of Guiana,” and is to be
composed by a person who has neither the advantage of education, nor of
talents. You will judge of the merits of the work, when you learn that
it is in the author’s plan to describe _minutely_ the sources, and the
junction of the rivers Oronoko and Amazons, without having travelled
twenty miles from the sea-coast; and to give a full and _accurate_
account of different races of people, not one of whom he has ever seen.

A fact has recently occurred to my knowledge, displaying a custom which
I am sure you will regard with astonishment. It is usual, in these
colonies, for a person to take a negro, or more frequently a mulatto, or
_mestee_ woman as housekeeper and companion; and, if he have children by
her, and cannot afford, or does not choose to be at the expense of
sending them to Europe to be educated, he derives no dishonor from
breeding up the sons as mechanics, and giving out the daughters, in
keeping, to his friends; and so commonly is this practice established,
that no feelings of remorse seem to attach to it: on the contrary, it is
deemed the best provision the parent can make for his daughter, to place
her with a respectable man as his _bonne amie_; but it is necessary to
understand that these are never whites, nor children born in wedlock:
they are daughters of women of colour, who, like themselves, have felt
honored in being chosen the companions of their lords; and who do not
aspire to the dignified character of wife. Neither father nor daughter
feels any sense of shame, in yielding to this general usage of the
country; _her_ ambition soars no higher, for she is bred up with no
other expectation; and the indelible disgrace which would attach to
marrying a woman of colour leaves the parent no hope of providing for
his daughter, by placing her in the more honorable state of wedlock.
Still the practice is so utterly repugnant to European sentiments, that
it must require a long residence in this country to reconcile it to the
father; for, whatever may be the distinction between wife and mistress,
it cannot be supposed that the feelings of nature in the breast of the
parent can be thereby diminished. The child is equally his offspring,
and, from being less protected by the laws, is, even in a greater
degree, the object of his care: it must therefore occasion him many
severe pangs to submit to this insecure and perilous disposal of his
daughter. If the protector die or leave the country, the protegée
returns to her father, until another suitor offer her his home.

You will be surprised to know that, until very lately, I have not had an
opportunity of purchasing a horse, but you would be much more surprised
could you see what a miserable animal I have, at length, procured for
the sum of nearly forty guineas. Horses are very scarce, and of high
value upon this coast. No more are kept than are required for absolute
use, and a spare one is rarely to be met with. They are mostly imported
from North America, and, like ourselves, they are subject to a seasoning
disease, which equally cuts off man and horse.

We are again looking forward to dry and fine weather, for
notwithstanding the present wet season has only been set in a month, it
is supposed, from the circumstance of most of the rain now falling in
the night, that it may be already declining. I forget whether I before
remarked to you, that we have not even in what is termed the rainy
season, any thick and foggy days like those of an English November. The
wet season is a rapid alternation of dark cloud, with a clear
atmosphere, and bright sunshine. No misty damps succeed the rushing
torrents: the black cloud, from which they fall, pours forth its
streams, exhausts itself, and passes away, leaving the rays of the sun
again free to reach the earth; and all is light and fair between the
heavy peltings of the storm.




                              LETTER XVII.


                                                          December 26th.

In tracing the date of this letter, I am reminded of the freezing season
under which you are shivering in England; while the thermometer is here,
at noon, about 83; and, from using only moderate exercise, I am so
bestreamed with perspiration as to make it necessary to change my
clothes four or five times in the course of the day: even at this
moment, from only the slight exertion of writing, the drops fall so
rapidly from the backs of my hands, as to spoil my paper, and render my
letter almost illegible.

On the subject of Christmas, I should tell you that it is not less a
period of festivity, here, than in England. The planters make parties,
and the merry feasting of the season goes round, unchilled with its
frosty coldness. It is likewise a holyday to the slaves, who usually
receive some indulgence of food, and some present of clothing to augment
the happiness of the festival. We have seen new hats distributed among
the men of a whole gang, and a bit of coarse canvass for a petticoat
given to each of the women; and never were children more delighted with
toys, than these poor beings were on the joyous occasion of receiving
these humble, but to them splendid offerings. Some fresh meat was also
served out to them as a high feast for dinner, and in the evening, their
loved African dance crowned the holyday. Parties of them go from the
different plantations to spend the mirthful hours with their more
particular friends or acquaintances of the neighbouring estates, and it
is a happy meeting of relatives, lovers, and fellow-passengers, who made
the voyage together from their native land. The whole country exhibits
one moving scene of dancing gaiety. Cheerful crowds are met in every
quarter, dressed out in all the gaudy trappings they can collect, with
their hair cut, and fashioned into multitudes of whimsical shapes,
representing various figures of helmets, wigs, crowns and the like; and
decorated with a profusion of beads, bits of riband, and other tinsel
ornaments.

I must not neglect to tell you that Christmas is here the high season
for oranges. They are now ripe, and in their greatest perfection. You
will be surprised to hear what quantities I am in the daily habit of
consuming. From six to twelve, pulled fresh from the tree, make my usual
allowance before breakfast, and commonly I take as many in the evening,
besides eating great numbers in the course of the day. Indeed fruit and
vegetables form almost the whole of my diet, and I now suffer no
distress on account of our scanty supply of animal provisions. As was
predicted to me, I am become so fond of plantains as scarcely to require
any other food, and I am persuaded that if they could be had in all
climates, they would be found, without exception, the most valuable
production of the earth. Roasted, they serve as bread; fried, they are
as meat and as fruit; boiled, they are a substitute for potatoes, and
beat into a paste, they form excellent pudding.

A very distressing case has been related to us within these few days,
exposing the sad hardships, and the shameful abuse of power to which the
people of colour are sometimes subjected. A young man, a mulatto, under
the agitation of extreme distress, presented himself before the officers
at Mahaica, complaining of the cruel severities which he had experienced
from a Dutchman, holding an office of high trust in the colony of
Essequibo. Having been called upon business to Barbadoes, he had left a
sister at home, to whom he was affectionately attached; and during his
absence, this arbitrary magistrate took an opportunity of seducing her.
From the poor man not letting the subject pass so tacitly as the
Dutchman might have wished, on his return, a feigned cause of complaint
was preferred against him, and he was thrown into prison, where he has
been lying ever since, under the sufferings dictated by this man of
command. He at length effected his escape, and is now in concealment.
His application to the principal officer at Mahaica, was to implore him
to interest the commandant of the colonies in his behalf; remarking that
if he should not succeed in obtaining some powerful intercession, his
life must inevitably be sacrificed; for whenever he should be
discovered, a prison would again be his lot, and he would be exposed to
cruelties, or left to languish under privations that would soon destroy
him.

On my way lately from Stabroek to Mahaica I slept at the house of a
gentleman who detailed a very striking case of intermittent fever, under
which he had laboured for three quarters of a year, and which, during
the whole of that time, had regularly returned at the periods of the
spring-tides. He commonly felt unwell on the third day previous to the
full, and the new moon; and the fever was at the worst on the day of the
change, after which it decreased, and on the second or third day of the
decline of the spring-tides he was again well, and felt himself secure
for the next fortnight. If he had any particular business to transact,
or any important engagement to plan, he regularly consulted the almanack
in order so to arrange that they might not interfere with his periods of
sickness. He remarked that he could at any time interrupt the return of
the fever, by taking a large quantity of Peruvian bark, but added, that
he had such an utter aversion to medicine, that rather than have
recourse to it, he should have supported the disease still longer, if it
had not begun to prey upon his constitution, by rendering him feeble
during the periods of intermission.

You know how much promotion in the army is said to alleviate the grief
arising from the loss of a comrade; but you would be surprised to find
how lightly men on service can treat the dangers which surround them,
and how little they regard sickness until it reaches themselves,
notwithstanding many of them would tremble more to go into an hospital
than to face the enemy’s cannon. It commonly happens, that a few days
after the funeral, the clothes and baggage of a deceased officer are
disposed of by auction, when, frequently, the jokes and witticisms,
which pass among the purchasers, betray the slight impression made by
the loss that occasioned the sale. For instance, on a pair of boots
being held up for a bidding, one officer said to another. “You had
better buy these boots, they will just suit you.”—“No,” replied the
other, looking down to his comrade’s legs, “it is your turn next, and
yours will fit me better: I shall have them in a few days.” So it
happened, and true enough, the boots then on the legs of his friend,
soon, alas! too soon, were his!

You will believe that after such a conversation, he could have no
satisfaction in wearing them: nor was such the object of his making the
purchase. He was actuated by a more amiable motive: the boots are
carefully preserved in memory of his comrade, and of one of their latest
meetings.




                             LETTER XVIII.


                                                          Demarara, Dec.

I have lately had an opportunity of repeating my visit to the eccentric
Bercheych. Having slept on my way at Mr. Graham’s, I rode from thence in
the morning to take my breakfast tête-à-tête, with this solitary yet
social and intelligent recluse. Although unexpected, he instantly
addressed me by name, and received me in the most friendly manner,
telling me that he was mindful of his promise, and that some Indians
were at work upon the model of a house and furniture, which he had
offered to procure for me.

A most ample breakfast was quickly set before us, served with great
neatness and order. I was delighted, as formerly, with his conversation
and remarks, and was particularly gratified with the account he gave me
of that singular animal the great Ant-eater, which he had had frequent
opportunities of seeing both dead and alive, his people having shot
several of the species. The weight of this peculiar quadruped is
commonly from 150 lb. to 200 lb. He has a very small head, covered with
hair as soft as velvet; his tail is immensely large and flat, and beset
with long hair, which is stiffer than the bristles of a hog. His feet
are armed with long claws, forming very strong offensive weapons, By
means of his claws, and his tail, he is able to defend himself against
even the tiger; and in some instances he has been known to conquer that
fierce and powerful animal. When attacked, he fights with his claws,
protecting his head by wrapping it up in his broad tail of bristles,
which the tiger cannot penetrate. He has a tongue of uncommon length,
which is moistened with saliva of a saccharine flavour. As the name
implies, ants are his food, and his mode of procuring it is by thrusting
his deceitful tongue into a nest of these insects, when, allured by the
taste of the saliva, they settle upon it in great numbers, and the
animal, by drawing it in, swallows up whole hosts of them at once. The
high relish, no doubt, excites an increased secretion, and with his
tongue again sweetly baited, he entraps new victims, repeating the
slaughter until his appetite is satiated with the myriads of slain.

Walking lately with one of the gentlemen of the hospital department,
down to the bottom of a coffee estate, which leads into the woods, our
attention was arrested by the singular appearance of multitudes of the
trees at the entrance of the forest; many of which had pensile bodies,
like common cabbage-nets, stuffed with straw, hanging from the
extremities of their lofty branches; and others, huge black masses,
conveying the idea of large animals, adhering to their trunks. Upon
approaching nearer to them we discovered that the former were the nests
of birds; the latter, of ants!

The bird-nests were the fabrication of a species here termed the
mocking-bird, but unlike that of imitative note so named in the Northern
States of this continent. Both the construction and situation of these
nests are peculiarly ingenious. They are not built upon, nor within any
part of the tree, but are fastened to the outermost twigs of the
remotest branches, as if tied to them with strings; and it is extremely
difficult to imagine how, in this pensile form, the building of them can
be effected; for it might seem, from the manner in which they are
suspended, that they must have been first constructed, then carried up
whole, and hung upon the twigs which support them. They are deep and
cylindrical like long nets or purses, from which figure, together with
the ready flexibility of the tender branches which bear them, they are
in no danger of being overturned by the breeze, nor of having their
eggs, or young, tossed out by sudden gusts of wind. The appearance of
them, as they hang waving in the air, is very remarkable: some of the
trees are so thickly covered with them that, at a short distance, it is
difficult to distinguish which are most numerous, these nests or the
leaves. The situation of them is admirably chosen for the purpose of
protection against the various species of monkies, which infest the
woods; none of these marauders being able to support themselves upon the
slender twigs from which the nests are suspended. Buffon would tell us
that an unerring instinct had taught these birds thus to shelter their
eggs, and their young: Darwin would attribute it to reason and
experience. But the fact of the younger birds selecting the same
situation, and constructing their nests, even the first season, with as
great dexterity as their parents, seems to offer an insurmountable
objection to the opinion which refers it to a reasoning faculty. Nothing
of progressive advancement is displayed, all is perfection from the
beginning, and experience begets no superiority; for it is not seen that
either age or repetition affords the usual advantages of improved
intellect—the youngest bird being equally ingenious, and equally perfect
in his architecture as the oldest.

The ant-nests are immense masses of black earth, built upon the trunks
of the trees; many of them so high, and of such extraordinary bulk, as
to render it matter of surprise, how even the combined industry of these
minute insects could have carried up, and worked together such
prodigious accumulations. One of the nests very much resembled a large
black bear clinging round the tree; nor was it till we came near enough
to examine it closely that we could believe it to be the masonry—the
dwelling-house and castle of these diminutive artists.

I thrust the end of my cane into several of the nests, breaking through
the outer walls of the mansions; when instantly hosts of ants issued
forth from the openings. Upon breaking-down a part of one of these
buildings to examine it more particularly, I found that although the
exterior surface was smooth and uniform, the interior was formed into
cells somewhat of a regular figure, and very much resembling the
honey-comb of bees.

We find that these nests are converted to an useful purpose, being given
as food to little chickens. Frequently the trees, upon which they are
built, are cut down for the sole purpose of obtaining them. The mode of
using them is by breaking off a portion of the cellular earth, from the
great mass, and sticking it upon a pole, or otherwise placing it over
the lattice-work of the pen in which the hen and her brood are confined,
in order that the young ants may fall out of their cells to the ground;
where they are instantly devoured by the chickens.

On the day after my breakfast visit at the cottage, hermit Bercheych, as
he is often called, came, in great state, to dine with us at the
barracks. He was paddled down the creek in his large canoe, by six fine
slaves, and it was pleasing to observe what profound attention and
respect were borne this old gentleman by his negroes, who comported
themselves with a degree of regularity and decorum worthy the best
ordered domestics of Europe.

Our party was small, and we sat down to dinner in the presence of a
group of naked Indians, who that day made us a visit from the woods. It
was not in our power, even with our best assiduities, to make a
sufficient return for the many marks of hospitality we had met with at
the hermitage, but our guest expressed himself happy, and was lively and
entertaining as ever. The few hours we had of his society passed very
pleasantly, and we regretted extremely that the tide, and the approach
of evening took him from us early after dinner.

Absorbed with the civilities due to the accomplished and methodical
Bercheych, we were less regardful of our strangers from the woods than
usual; but we have lately been visited by another party of the bucks, to
whom we earnestly devoted our attentions, during the short time they
remained among us. We made it a settled experiment to endeavour to rouse
them from that fixed apathy and indifference which forms so striking a
feature of their character. By signs we attempted to lead them into a
sort of conversation. We gave them rum to drink; brought out bows and
arrows to shoot with; played the German flute to them; beat the drum,
and piped the fife—but all in vain! Nothing of mirth or vivacity was
excited. Rum possessed the only charm: of this both the men and women
drank glass after glass as quickly as it was given them.

Cynics have said that the gift of speech is a blessing seldom denied to
the ladies; but we remarked that these naked wood-nymphs were peculiarly
taciturn. They seemed even more tranquil and incurious than the men.
They sat two upon a chair, the whole time, with their backs towards us,
and were not inspired, by any thing that occurred, to move a single
feature or a muscle; nor were the men much more animated: one of them,
who appeared to be very old, had in his hand a piece of a large and
coarse reed, nearly two feet long, with two or three holes cut in it,
like a flute. With this we did prevail upon him to blow a few harsh and
simple notes; and these he seemed to consider very superior to all the
varied sounds of the German flute, which was played to him by one of the
officers; for, he refused to accept the flute in exchange for his reed.
After trying various other means to rouse them, we caused the drum and
fife to be played, unexpectedly, below the window, where they were
sitting. This seemed to strike the ear, and they for a moment appeared
to listen, but nothing of impulse was betrayed—nothing of vivacity
overspread their features: nor did an individual of them so far forget
his gravity as to rise from his seat to look out at the window.




                              LETTER XIX.


                                            La Bourgade, Jan. 8th, 1797.

You will comprehend the sentiment which associates your image with the
sadness of the present hour. It is one of those periods when the
sickened mind turns from all common objects, and clings to the
remembrance of those we hold most dear. Having just returned from the
funeral of one of my comrades, who died in the adjoining chamber this
morning, and whose remains I have this evening followed to the grave, I
find that the heavy depression of my spirits admits of no relief from
the immediate circumstances around me: I take up my pen, therefore, to
seek alleviation in an appeal to the bosom of friendship and of
sympathy. I had before experienced the impressive solemnity of a
military funeral, but the awful gloom, connecting with the procession,
had not weighed upon me with all the affliction of the present moment.
Of six gentlemen who accompanied me from Barbadoes, as assistants in the
hospital department, three had died, one was sent to England with
invalids, and the other two had, for some time past, resided in the same
house with myself. Early this morning I was called from my bed to visit
one of these, who had been a very short time ill, and was taken worse in
the night. You will believe that I lost not a moment in putting on my
clothes, and hastening to his room; but, on reaching his bed-side, I
found him a corpse! The case of this young man shows the very perilous
situation of Europeans in this climate, and proves with how much truth
it may be said that to-day we are well, to-morrow in fever, and—next day
in the grave! Nor do health and vigour give any security; for he who
to-day boasts the greatest strength, to-morrow, perhaps, is stretched in
his coffin.

Most of the officers of the garrison attended the funeral, and, when
following the corpse in slow and doleful procession, with the band
playing the dead march, and the minute-drum beating in hollow sound, the
agonized feelings of the occasion became still more poignant from the
conviction that, perhaps, before another day had passed, others of us
might be extended at the side of the comrade, whose loss we now
deplored.

I have before remarked to you, that from the strong tendency of such
awful ceremonies to spread dispiriting apprehensions among the living,
it is desirable that the parade of military funerals should be dispensed
with, in a climate where the troops may, at all moments, be under
feelings of alarm from the peril of disease; yet may it be a question,
with some, how far it would be politic to deprive the soldier of this
last and honorable mark of distinction; the sentiment attaching to which
is, no doubt, one among the many causes which lead to noble and heroic
conduct.

Among the soldiers of our own battalions, its disuse has been found both
wise and necessary; for if it were to be employed on all occasions, in
this climate, it might call those in health too often to the performance
of a distressful duty, and become a painfully frequent memento to the
sick; the effect of which, added to the common apprehension with respect
to disease, might produce a degree of depression, which no means could
remedy. Still among the Dutch troops the practice is continued; for it
were easier, perhaps, to overturn the Alps, than to do away the
prejudices of the Hollanders. Questions of expediency yield to questions
of usage, and it must be proved to be a glaring injury, indeed, to the
living, before a Dutchman could consent to forego an established
observance to the dead.

It is remarkable, that among the papers of our deceased comrade, we find
an unfinished letter, begun only a day or two ago, to his father, in
which he speaks of being uncommonly well, and gratefully offers thanks
to the Deity for the blessing of such excellent health.

Soon after he expired, a man called who had some business with him, and
on being told that he was dead, would not leave the house, but insisted
that we were deceiving him, saying that he had seen him in the town
_perfectly well_ “only a day or two before!”

It is a long while since we received news from your side the Atlantic;
but a single paper is now brought to us by the captain of a ship from
Glasgow, and you will not be surprised to learn that it is worn to
shreds, by passing through the hands of the whole garrison.

After being for some weeks without fresh animal provisions, it has
happened that the hospital has been supplied with them several times
within the last few days: but, unhappily, their action upon the bowels
of the sick, has more than counteracted the benefit which they might
have derived from them. Aware that this was not an unfrequent
occurrence, we had endeavoured to guard against it by issuing the fresh
meat only in small portions at a meal, yet, from their stomachs having
been so long unaccustomed to it, and from the debilitated state of the
patients, the laxative effect was very considerable, nearly the whole of
the convalescents having been attacked with a troublesome diarrhœa.




                               LETTER XX.


                                                      Demarara, Jan. 21.

We have again had abundant occasion to remark the fact regarding the
coincidence between the returns of fever in this climate, and the
periods of the spring-tides. Only a few days ago, at the time of full
moon, Mr. Beete (the commissary), Mr. Mulheran (one of our assistants in
the medical department), and six of the convalescents in the hospital,
were attacked with a relapse of fever, or what is here called “the
tides.” Three were cases of continued fever; five of intermittent: but
it is not in the paroxysms of intermittent, and the relapses of fever,
only that the disease appears to be influenced by the recurrence of the
spring-tides; for we now find that the primary invasion of the disorder
is more frequent, and the number of fever-patients admitted into the
hospital greater, at these periods, than at any other time.

The case of Mr. Beete is peculiar; and places the fact in a very
striking light. He has been long resident in the West Indies, and from
having withstood all the late perils of disease at Grenada, might be
regarded as, in a great degree, secure against that particular form of
the fever which is so fatal to newly arrived Europeans: but very soon
after he came from the islands to Demarara, he was attacked with it, in
the form which it more commonly assumes among the creoles, and those who
have been long on this shore of the Atlantic, viz. as an intermittent,
yet not returning as a quotidian, a tertian, or a quartan, but as a
quindecimana, and so regularly observing its type that, if referred to
its place in a system of nosology, it might justly be ranked among the
species of intermittent fever, under the title of quindecimana. It has
continued ever since, returning at intervals of a fortnight, with the
exacerbations correctly obeying the periods of new and full moon, but he
has always the power of interrupting it, and averting the paroxysm by a
copious use of the bark for only a day or two previous to the time of
spring-tide, and his friends very earnestly hope that he will soon, so
far subdue his aversion to the taking of medicine, as to employ it in
sufficient quantity to eradicate the disease. In the four other cases of
intermittent, the fever assumes the ordinary quotidian, or the tertian
type. In the cases wherein the disorder appears in its continued form,
the relapses are, frequently, not less severe than the original attack.

The 18th instant being the Queen’s birth-day, it was honored in public
and private rejoicing, and as our days of festival are few, you will
believe that justice was done to the occasion. In the morning we had a
general review of the troops; afterwards a large party dined, and drank
her Majesty’s health with the commandant: and, in the evening, the
officers gave a splendid ball at the fort.

The review afforded great satisfaction to the inhabitants, by placing
before them a fine body of troops, armed in the defence of the colony.
They were of different nations, different colours, and in different
uniform; yet from the excellent discipline instilled among them by the
unwearied attentions of the commandant and the officers, their
appearance in the field was highly military, and their manœuvres
executed with order and correctness. The line, if not formidable, was
very respectable. On the right were the British troops, and the corps of
Demarara volunteers, in scarlet uniform: on the left were the Dutch, in
blue: in the centre the fine battalion of South American rangers, in
white: and, on each wing a party of the royal artillery.

At the dinner, the board was enriched with all the dainties of the
country, and the appetite provoked by choice wines and cheering music.
The governor, the fiscal, most of the officers, and many of the
principal inhabitants of the colony, were present. A military band
enlivened the banquet, and merry toasts and songs caused the bumper
glass to move in quick time. I left the table early, in order to make my
round of duty at the hospital, and joined the party again at the ball,
where, in a group of about seventy persons, we met all the beauty and
fashion of the colony. In the whole party, the number of ladies did not
exceed sixteen, so that many of the gentlemen, at an early period of the
evening, had to lament the deficiency; yet such was the prowess of the
fair, that, before the dancing ceased, each had fatigued her third
companion; and it fell to their lot to complain of the want of partners.
The exercise used by the ladies was truly astonishing, and far surpassed
all that I could have believed them capable of supporting; but, call it
pleasure, and the body is strong. If such excess had been recommended,
as necessary for any other purpose, it would no doubt have been regarded
as dangerous and destructive. Some of them, with only the interval of
supper-time, danced from nine o’clock until daylight, in a room where
the heat, probably, exceeded 90 degrees.

At supper, few as the ladies were, it happened to be my fortune to be
placed between two of them: of one, only, I have now to speak; but let
me first remark that the colony was ransacked to supply the table; which
was most sumptuously and profusely spread. On my noticing the uncommon
crowd of dishes, an officer dryly replied, “Perhaps you are not aware
that the party to be entertained is Dutch.” I thought it fully
sufficient for five such parties, whether Dutch, English, or French; but
if all had eaten like the fair one in question, I must have been
egregiously deceived.

The lady at my right elbow, was very large, and of true Dutch figure.
Her person may be well described in two words—broad and bulky! By some
accident she had sprained her wrist, and this formed a ready apology for
appealing to my particular attention, which, from not being in the habit
of eating supper, I could the better devote to her service: but I almost
fear to note the fact I have to relate, lest you should imagine that I
assume a traveller’s privilege, and indulge in the marvellous at the
expense of a fair associate guest. Let me therefore premise, that in
what follows, the boundaries of sober truth are not outstepped a single
iota; for I not only helped the lady to her meats, and poured forth her
wines, but was further called upon to cut her food, into small pieces,
ready for the fork, by which I had the opportunity of observing,
literally, _every mouthful_.

Scarcely had we taken our seats, before my fair neighbour requested me
to help her to a glass of claret, of which I found a _full_ bottle
standing between us. The ceremony of a gentleman drinking, at the same
time, was not deemed essential; consequently I tasted but very lightly:
yet it somehow happened, and without the bottle being once removed,
that, before the supper was at an end, the gentle lady was compelled to
have recourse to a glassful or two of sound Madeira, to supply the
deficiencies of our _empty_ bottle! With this, her eating was in no
degree at variance, for she commenced by forming a solid stratum of two
heavy slices of fat ham, after which I helped her from no less than
_fourteen_ other dishes, of each of which, to my surprise, she partook
with appetite! Such a supper I had not before seen swallowed by man or
woman! Although satiated, not satisfied, she afterwards desired me to
reach towards her several of the dishes of fruit, from each of which,
after liberally tasting, she _privately_ gave a portion to a female
slave, who was standing at her back; and when she rose to leave the
supper-room, I observed _under her chair_ a loaded plate of fruits and
sweets, which, without doubt, the negress had received instructions to
carry home, for the purpose of regaling her mistress on the morrow.
This, by the by, is a custom, which I have more than once seen practised
by foreign ladies, both Dutch and French!

But what will surprise you most is, to know that after this _light
supper_, the lady _briskly_ resumed the merry dance! and, when I
retired, at five o’clock in the morning, she remained tripping it away
as gaily as if it had been only the commencement of the evening.

It affords me real pleasure to be able to remark that we have entered
the more cordially into the late festivity on account of the improved
state of our sick list, and from the happy circumstance of the last
weekly return of the hospital not containing even a single casualty.
This is a subject of great and peculiar satisfaction to the medical
officers; it being the first week, since our arrival in these colonies,
that we have had the opportunity of making out a weekly return, without
marking some one in the fatal column. But the healthy season is now
setting in, and we are taught to expect nearly four months of dry
weather, with a salubrious breeze, which is to waft away all our
maladies. I have been too much in the habit of busy employment to feel
any desire to sit down in idleness; yet, upon such terms, I could be
very happy to continue without professional duty.




                              LETTER XXI.


                                                Demarara, Feb. 11, 1797.

A considerable time has now passed since our arrival upon this coast,
and, having remained so long without any interruption, we had almost
believed that the many foes upon our borders meant to leave us in quiet
possession of the colonies we had taken; but we have, at length, been
assailed from the quarter, whence we least expected it, having had a
skirmish with the Spaniards to leeward, instead of the Dutch or French,
who in more imposing aspect, threatened us from windward. Fixing upon a
favorable moment when they expected that the garrison might be sunk in
repose, after the festivities of the Queen’s birth-day, a party of
Spaniards crossed the river Oronoko in the night of the 19th inst. and
made an attack upon our out-post at Moroko, the remotest point of the
colony of Essequibo. To their disappointment our troops were upon the
alert, and they were observed before they landed. Quickly the whole
force at the post was under arms, and at stepping on shore the Dons met
a very lively reception. The firing was returned on the part of the
Spaniards, who boldly rushed forward, expecting to subdue the garrison,
but, after the contest had continued a short time, they were defeated,
and, some being killed, some wounded, and others driven into the river,
those who were able to make their escape, precipitately took to their
boats and retreated. Happily not one of our men was killed, but the
commanding officer and nine of the soldiers were wounded, some of the
latter, we fear, mortally. This is the first rencontre we have had with
the enemy since our arrival in Guiana; and, from the result, it is
probable that the next assault will not be from the quarter of the
Oronoko.

Very much to their honor, this gallant defence of our out-post was made
by Captain Rochelle and a party of the Dutch troops, who had surrendered
on our taking the colonies, and afterwards entered into the service of
his Majesty. They fought with great bravery, and gave a satisfactory
proof that they merited the confidence reposed in them, in appointing
them to the charge of this important station.

Two of the Bucks were despatched from the post, to bring us the news of
the action, and they, with the zeal and punctuality of more regular
couriers, reached Stabroek on the 23d, four days after the battle.
According to my custom, I engaged these men of the woods, each evening
during their stay, to join in my favorite exercise of shooting with the
bow and arrow.

I have lately taken frequent opportunities of entering into conversation
with different negroes, both male and female, endeavouring to ascertain
what were their sentiments with regard to the subject of freedom and
slavery; and, when I tell you that I was careful to select those who
were the most intelligent, you will be surprised at the very limited
extent of their knowledge. Their utmost ambition does not go beyond the
procuring of food, with the little clothing they wear, and medicine when
sick; nor in any other view do they seem to comprehend the advantages of
freedom: being assured of these, from their masters, whilst they remain
slaves, they have a terror at the idea of being made free: yet I have
remarked that some of the women speak in raptures on the topic of
obtaining their liberty; but, upon further questioning them, I have
always discovered that it was not from any just sense of independence;
but from the mere desire of becoming the sultanas of white men, and
being placed by them above the ordinary slaves of the house.

I give you the following conversation, literally as it passed; from
which you will be able to form a more correct judgment of the sentiments
which dictated the replies.

Would you not like to go to England?

No! Backra country no good! In neger country they no flog ’em, and dat
better dan backra country.

Do you not wish to be free?

O yes! O yes!

And if you were free, where would you live, and what would you do?

Live wid dem dat buy me free.

Well! and would you not go with them to England?

No! me ’fraid for go where ’em all backra. Me love for see neger here
and dere; me ’fraid for see all backra.

But if those, who bought you free, should go away and leave you?

Den me live wid one backra man, and hab one slave for work for me.

And if this backra man should die?

Den me live wid one other backra man.

This was the utmost extent of all she desired on earth. She would remain
with any family who might make her free, but if they should leave the
colony, she would go and live with a white man, and prevail upon him to
buy her a slave; and if this protector should die, then she would seek
for another _backra_, and go and live with him; and so on, from one to
another, as often as they should die, or leave the colony. It was a very
common reply from many of them to the question, “What would you do if
you were free?” “Live wid de backra man dat buy me free, wash him linen,
and keep him clean!”

Among those who condemned freedom was a very fine negro, who was born in
the colony; and who speaks better English, and is more intelligent than
nine-tenths of the slaves who have been imported. This man insisted that
he would not accept his freedom, if it were offered him, but that he
would prefer to remain a slave. If free, he said, he must work for his
food whilst he was young, and when he should be old; whereas if he
remained a slave, his master would give him food for his labour while
young, and let him eat, in rest, when he grew aged. Also if sick his
master would let him have provisions, and find him a doctor; but if he
were free, he could not work for food when old, or sick; nor could he
have a doctor, because he should be unable to pay him. This country, he
said, was good for him, he was born in it, and he would not like to go
into any other. If he should have “_the misfortune_” to be made free, he
would learn a trade, and work at that to procure him food and clothing.

He had acquired some idea of a future state, and described it as a great
and general principle among the negroes, to cherish any of their own
colour who were advanced in years, and were in want, and to feed and
compassionate them, if they were free, and unable to work; for which he
observed they should “go to heaven.” He had no doubt of being taken
thither himself, and told me that he was ready to die that minute if any
one would kill him, adding, that he would rather die than live! On being
asked why he did not kill himself, he replied, “_Dat no good, if I sall
do dat, me go to hell._” Lying, swearing, and drunkenness, he did not
regard as crimes: suicide, and giving poison to any person were, in his
estimation, the greatest, and almost the only sins. These he considered
as certain of preventing any one from being received into heaven, of
which, his ideas were extremely vague, and unintelligible. Hell he
described as an immense caldron of liquid fire, into which the wicked
were to be plunged.

You may, probably, have heard it questioned whether a person can be
attacked with the yellow fever more than once; I may tell you,
therefore, amidst my unconnected notes, that to the mortification of
those who have already suffered it, as well as of others, we know too
well that it may and does attack the same person, not only a second
time, but many times[2]. An instance of this I may mention to you,
together with a genuine blunder produced on the subject, by one of the
gentlemen of the hospital department, whose home lies a little to the
west of Holyhead.

The patient was the sergeant-major of the rangers, a man who, from the
nature of his appointment, was subjected to much duty and fatigue. He
had twice been a patient at the hospital, in yellow fever, and had both
times recovered, after being in a state nearly to be despaired of. On
his returning to us a third time, we were lamenting the severity of his
sufferings, and the hard trials he had to encounter, when one of the
hospital-mates exclaimed, “Faith, and it’s no wonder he should be
attacked so often, for he is constantly exposed to the heat of the sun,
_night and day_.”

Sometimes, without any feelings of actual disease, the eyes and skin of
those who, from their employment, continue in the greatest degrees of
heat, become as yellow as in the worst cases of the yellow fever. This
happens to bakers, cooks, blacksmiths, and the like. A few days ago, in
one of my walks, I met a man who had, some time before, been a patient
in the hospital, and observing that his skin and eyes were of a strong
yellow colour, I asked him if he felt again ill; when he replied in the
negative, adding that, on the contrary, he continued so well as to be
employed _as a baker_, at the commissary’s, and further remarking, that
he had himself noticed the tinge, which he had been told was owing to
the heat of his business.

Notwithstanding the severity of disease, among those who are recently
arrived in the West Indies, we remark that the creoles, or creolised,
are generally much greater invalids, than those who are but lately from
Europe. This fact we see particularly exemplified in the corps of South
American rangers; the officers of which have been appointed, some from
the regiments newly arrived from England, and the others from among the
colonists: while the latter are feeble and ailing, and often unfit for
duty, the former are active and robust, far less complaining, and seldom
indisposed, except when attacked with violent and dangerous disease. The
creolised have a degree of languor and lassitude about them, and are
subject to head-ach, and febrile sensations, which render them inactive,
and less capable of exertion than the others: they are also very liable
to fever of a remittent, or intermittent type, which either invades them
at irregular periods, or returns in severe annual visitation.




                              LETTER XXII.


                                                     Demarara, February.

Although it is commonly remarked that gratitude is not a prominent
virtue among the slaves, I may mention to you an additional fact, in
proof that they are not destitute of this amiable quality. On the
morning of January 13th, a well-looking robust negro unexpectedly
presented himself at my door, tendering his services, and begging that
he might be allowed to work for me. Upon my going out to speak with him,
his countenance gladdened with joy, and looking animated and cheerful,
he said he would “_do ebery ting to ’blige Massa, wait upon Massa, clean
Massa’s horse, and do all de work Massa tell him_.”

Not immediately recollecting his features, I asked who he was, whence he
came, and how it happened that he addressed himself to me? when he
replied, “_Ah Massa, if you no remember Prince, Prince no forget dat
Massa tell ’em soldiers for break one great iron collar off Prince’s
neck, and gave him for gnyaam when Massa at Mahaica!_” This brought him
to my recollection, and I recognised an unhappy slave, whom, in one of
my walks at Mahaica, I had met wandering in a cotton-field, bearing a
heavy iron collar upon his neck, with three long spikes projecting from
it, terminating in sharp points, at the distance of nearly a foot and a
half from his person; and with his body flogged into deep ulcers, from
his loins to his hams. In this state, and almost starving with hunger,
he appealed to my feelings. _Humanity_ pleaded in his behalf, and
without a very scrupulous inquiry into the whys and wherefores of the
punishment, its dictates were obeyed. The poor man followed me to the
fort: the soldiers grew indignant on seeing his naked sores; and the
impulse of their feelings not being opposed, his neck was quickly freed
from its load, and the massive yoke and its spikes were as speedily
converted into pot-hooks for the benefit of the mess. Thus made happy,
the thankful slave had now found his way to my home at La Bourgade, in
order to make his further acknowledgments, and to tender me his
services. Shall it be said that Africans know not the divine sentiment
of gratitude?

I before mentioned the great difficulty we meet with in obtaining
labouring mechanics, and you will be surprised to know the very high
price at which they are paid in these colonies. Inconvenience sometimes
arises from the scarcity of workmen, and those whom we have among us,
being sensible that their number is small, and that others cannot be
procured, demand most exorbitant wages, and commit their extortions
without any sort of reserve. Only a few days ago the labouring
carpenters threw down their tools, and refused to work, because a board,
appointed to regulate the price of wages, refused to allow them _four
dollars_ per day, instead of three, at which extravagant rate they have
been paid for some time past.

The weather, upon this coast, is now pleasant, and the roads are
delightfully good. We are advancing gradually into the dry season.
Occasional showers still refresh the fields, but our deep and muddy
roads are become quite smooth and dry, and are at this time, perhaps, as
fine for travelling as any that can be found upon the face of the globe.
The kindly breeze is steady and powerful, and the thermometer, at noon,
seldom exceeds 82; a temperature that we are able to support, without
feeling those heavy sensations of languor and weariness, which are so
extremely oppressive in the sultry days of an English summer.

Another very great comfort, not peculiar to this season, but which we
commonly experience in this climate, is the total freedom from that
lassitude and yawning, so common in England, at the hour of rising in
the morning, and which is not only troublesome and unpleasant, but
frequently causes us to steal another hour from the already too
shortened day. Here, it is but one thing to awake, and to get up. The
instant our eyes are open, the slumbers of the night are completely
gone, and we have no feelings of heaviness or drowsy languor to oppose
our rising; but in wakeful emotion we at once quit the pillow, and are
ready to engage in the active pursuits of the day.

The decline of the wet season, although pregnant with manifold
advantages, has brought us acquainted with a new trouble, in the
scarcity of water. In consequence of the increased number of persons
requiring to be supplied, the tanks, or cisterns built for preserving
the offerings from the clouds, are found very inadequate to the
consumption. These being emptied very soon after the heavy rains had
ceased, we have now, for our supply, to depend upon the unwilling toil
of a party of negroes, who are employed to go many leagues in boats, in
order to fill the casks from the river at a distance beyond the
influence of the tides. Owing to the several interruptions necessarily
arising from this mode of procuring it, our supply of fresh water is
not, at all times, so regular as might be wished, and there have been
moments when we could have almost lamented the absence of heavy rains.
Not only on account of sickness, but from the necessity we are under of
using a considerable proportion of salted provisions, an ample supply of
fluid is rendered indispensable at the hospital. Fresh animal food is
again become a great dainty among us; the sick, therefore, and their
attendants are often compelled to satisfy themselves with a diet of salt
meat, and the vegetables of the country.

Letters have lately reached us from Barbadoes, in which is mentioned a
striking example of the fatal influence of climate upon newly arrived
Europeans. One of the regiments, which left that island upon the
expedition to St. Lucie, in the month of April last, is already
returned, a mere skeleton, consisting of only a small body of invalids;
and the proportion which fell in battle is said to be very trifling,
compared with the greater destruction caused by a foe, whose ravages are
far more direful than those of the sword.




                             LETTER XXIII.


                                                Demarara, March 9, 1797.

You will consider it as an additional smile bestowed upon me by fortune,
when I tell you that I have been invited to another river excursion, and
again had an opportunity of becoming a traveller in the wild woods, and
uncultivated regions of this coast.

This journey was, in some of its features, unlike the former. It was
made with different persons, and fitted out with more regard to comfort;
but the other was more completely a marooning enterprise, and perhaps
exhibited, in stronger lineaments, the characters and circumstances
which presented themselves to our observation.

In our expedition up the river Berbische, we were all strangers,
trespassing upon the bounty of those we met; and, without any
acquaintance or introduction, depending upon the hospitality of persons
wholly unknown to us, for the means of prosecuting our journey: whilst
in the excursion up the river Demarara all the party, except myself,
were colonists, who were accustomed to the country, acquainted with
places and persons, and provided with stores, and other accommodations
for the occasion.

Our reception by the planters upon the borders of the rivers was, in
both cases, so liberal, that it might be difficult to mark a
distinction: perhaps I might say that in the one instance we were
cordially hailed as expected friends—in the other generously greeted as
welcome strangers. That it should have fallen to my lot to have gone up
both the rivers, is matter of singular gratification to me; for they
were not merely journeys of idle curiosity: a strong interest attached
to them, both regarding our species, and the face of the globe we
inhabit; and the impression they have made upon my mind will be
remembered with pleasure, to the end of my days.

The leading objects were to procure some roots and cuttings of plants
and trees, principally of the wild fruits of the forest, for the purpose
of raising them upon the estates of my fellow-travellers near the coast;
and to explore the river, as far as the falls, which is the utmost
extent we could reach in a boat.

I was only an appendage—a mere stranger among the group. Every thing was
planned and provided by my companions, and I was invited to join them,
only from the very liberal sentiment that it might afford me pleasure.
The gentlemen, to whom I am indebted for so handsome a compliment, were
Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. Fraser, Mr. L. Cuming, and Mynheer Heyliger.

We loitered on the way, like well-accommodated travellers, and made it a
tour of eleven days, having taken our departure from Stabroek, at noon
on the 25th of February, and returned on the evening of the 7th of
March. No party, equally numerous, had been known to pass to so great a
distance from the coast, although individuals had, occasionally,
journeyed as far as, or even beyond the falls of the river.

We had no means of marking the distance, except by the Dutch method of
making it synonymous with time: according to which, I might say that
from Stabroek to the Falls is thirty-six _hours_; or, from the mouth of
the river, to the part where it ceases to be navigable, nearly
thirty-six hours and a half. But in this I cannot profess even an
approach to the correctness of Dutch measurement, which gives, with
tolerable accuracy, four miles to the hour; for, although we were
thirty-six hours upon the water, between the town and the falls, I dare
not venture to calculate the distance at four times thirty-six miles; as
the hour might be sometimes eight or ten miles, and sometimes not a
third so many, according as the breeze, the tide, or the current,
chanced to aid or impede our progress; or, as feelings of strength, or
fatigue, were indicated on the part of the slaves. If I should fix the
average at four miles an hour, agreeably to the Dutch calculation, the
distance, thus given, would still be very incorrect, as we were
prevented from pursuing the direct course of the river, by our frequent
calls at the different plantations _en route_.

During the morning, previous to our departure, I felt very unwell, with
symptoms of fever, which being increased by heat, and the hurry of
preparation, I was so ill at the time of going into the boat, that
nothing but the most ardent desire not to forego the excursion could
have induced me to have ventured from home: I have since felt, more
sensibly than I did at the moment, how extremely perilous it was to
embark upon such an undertaking, in this climate, with the sensations I
then experienced; but, at that instant, nothing short of actual
confinement could have detained me. Happily the threatening indications
subsided, and, recovering as we proceeded, I became quite well upon the
journey.

We made our first call at an estate named “Golden Tent,” belonging to
Mynheer Meertens, where we were received in a very friendly manner, by
Mr. Reid, the resident manager, who keeps the house and premises in such
high order, that the general neatness of the home, together with the
square grass-plats before the door, and other decorations around the
building, give it more the air of an European dwelling, than any place I
had seen in the colonies.

We reached a plantation called Hermitage in time for dinner, and there
took up our abode for the night, being most liberally welcomed by Mr.
Selles, who, with great hospitality, devoted the best supply of his
house and table to our accommodation.

During the next day’s journey we passed several islands, lying in the
course of the river, but, from being flat and covered with wood, they
offered nothing more novel or interesting, than the mere break they
occasioned in the naked view of the stream. The first is called the Land
of Canaan: the second, Fort Island, being the spot where a fort was
originally erected, and a military post established for the defence of
the colony; which was then settled higher up the water, than it is at
present: the next is simply named the Third Island. At the entrance of a
creek called Kamonuy, we found a fourth, which was the last we met with
in our route. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon when we reached
the Kamonuy creek; upon entering which we perceived a striking change of
scenery. Instead of moving upon a bold and spacious river, studded with
islands, we were now conducted into a confined channel of deep black
water, leading into the heavy gloom of the forest, and overhung with
trees, whose dark foliage, meeting from the opposite banks, formed an
umbrageous canopy, which, even at mid-day, enveloped us, as it were, in
the still shades of night.

Having yet a great distance to make before we could arrive at our next
place of rest, and fearing lest, as the evening advanced, we might
mistake any of the turnings of our channel, and be led into the
uninhabited depths of the forest, we took our dinners in the creek,
without stopping the boat, and, in order to avoid every delay, rested
the negroes by turns, during the time of supplying them with the
necessary support of their toil.

In the bed of this dark and narrow stream were many broken stumps of
trees, which endangered the bottom of our boat; but we escaped with only
slightly rubbing against some of them as we passed.

From the Kamonuy we were led into the Woratilla creek, which was still
narrower and darker than the former; and out of the Woratilla, we turned
into another creek, called Mabeira, which was so contracted as totally
to prevent the negroes from rowing: they were, therefore, obliged to
stand up in the boat, and drive it forward by pushing with the ends of
their oars against the banks at the sides. Soon after entering the third
creek we were conducted into a wide and open savanna, at the remotest
end of which we could just discern the lonely home of Mr. Edmonstone,
whither we were bound, and at which it seemed we might quickly arrive. A
small cannon was accordingly fired from the boat to announce our
approach. But before we came near to the house, the windings of the
creek took us back into the deep shades; and after proceeding in the
dark for some time, we again found ourselves in the savanna, and were as
before deluded by a seemingly rapid advance to the house; but again, and
again, the numerous bendings of the channel reconducted us into the dark
bosom of the forest.

It was fortunate that we had reached the entrance of this very narrow
stream before the night set in, or we might have passed the turning, and
have been carried into the woods, widely astray from our course: for
during the time of our slow moving along the Mabeira creek, we were
overtaken by the most impenetrable darkness; in the midst of which an
accident occurred, which we feared might prove fatal to one of our
slaves, who from not being able to see the bank, missed the land with
his oar, and fell overboard. Happily, from the habits of the negroes,
they are in a manner amphibious, and this man had no sooner reached the
bottom, than he rose again to the surface, and swimming after us,
quickly climbed into the boat; when, on being asked if the water was
deep, he replied in the true negro dialect, “_Deep like a hell, Massa!_”
then shaking his skin, resumed his toil as if nothing had happened.

Before we had recovered from the anxiety caused by this accident, we
were again brought into the savanna, when we perceived the lights of the
house to be very near to us. The cup was now at our lips, but we were
still to be tantalized, and were again carried into the deep gloom of
the woods, where we continued to pursue the tedious windings of the
creek, until the open savanna had grown nearly as dark as the close
shades of the forest, and we could scarcely perceive Mr. Edmonstone,
when at length, he hailed us, at the front of his dwelling.

Our journey had not been enlivened with much of variety, even in the
course of the river; and from the time of our entering the creeks, we
were shut in sombre solitude. In the forest a death-like stillness
prevailed. The scene was cheerless as confined: o’ercast with solemn
darkness, the woods seemed uninhabited, and scarcely did a bird or an
insect chirp a note to disturb the silent shades.

From the landing-place up to the house we ascended by a rising path,
which by our feet we distinguished as a peculiarity, having so long been
treading a flat soil interrupted only by dykes and ditches. A short time
after our arrival the table was spread with ham, pepper-pot, laba, and
other dishes, of which our party partook with travellers’ appetite. Soon
afterwards we retired to rest, my fellow-travellers in their
hammocks,—myself upon a mattress.




                              LETTER XXIV.


                                                                  March.

At Mr. Edmonstone’s tranquil and solitary home, we passed the hours of
darkness in sound repose, undisturbed by the tormenting musquitoes,
which we had found excessively annoying at the Hermitage the night
before.

In the morning Mr. Edmonstone placed himself at the head of our corps,
and, attended by four or five negroes, together with a venerable and
sagacious Indian, we set out upon an expedition into the woods, in
search of the plants and scions, which had formed the leading objects of
our journey. Some heavy showers having fallen in the night, we found it
unpleasant walking; but we persevered in our pursuit, and toiled far
into the woods, remaining upon our legs from nine o’clock in the morning
until two in the afternoon, and, to my surprise, without experiencing
any fatigue. An ample collection of rare specimens of plants and fruits
was the reward of our labour; and we had the further gratification of
witnessing, in the course of our perambulation, a variety of scenery,
which cannot be met with in the flat and more cultivated parts of the
colony. We traversed thick and wild forests, crossed rivulets and limpid
streams, climbed up rude hills, and descended into deep gullies; which
created a novelty that animated our attention, and banished all sense of
weariness.

For the most part, our road was only a narrow path cut by the Bucks, and
so closely bordered, as to confine us to the Indian file. At times the
forest was thinner, and we could see to a distance betwixt its shades,
or walk two or three abreast, under the trees at the sides of our path.
Twice only we came to open spots, which had more the appearance of
plains than of thickets, and were mere patches of arid and sandy soil,
which refused every thing of nourishment to the vegetable world. All the
other parts were more or less covered with shrubs and forest trees, the
latter of which are of immense height and bulk. They are usually
perpendicular in their growth: their wood is heavy, and of uncommonly
hard texture, approaching, in some instances, to the solidity, weight,
and even the sound of metallic substances.

It occurred to me as remarkable, that in this long walk through the
woods, we saw no decayed remains of trees, either standing like the
hollow shells we often see in England, or lying upon the ground, sunk
with age. Neither did we meet with prostrate trunks, which had been
broken down, or uprooted by the winds. All appeared in the fulness of
health and vigour, as if their erect and stately pillars had, through
many ages, been growing side by side, and were never to surrender to
all-destructive years. Most of them were without branches, except near
to their summits, where their thick foliage commonly forms a canopy
which is not easily penetrated by the sun or the rain.

Among a variety of specimens, we collected some fine plants of the
Tonquin bean, the Souwarrow nut, the wild orange, and a species of the
medlar. Of birds and four-footed animals the woods appeared to contain
but few. Two wild hogs, some parrots, and parroquets formed nearly the
list of all we saw; nor did the forest seem to abound with insects, for
scarcely had I passed a day, since my arrival upon the coast of Guiana,
so entirely free from the annoyance of these minor objects of creation.
We noticed only two or three musquitoes, of feeble growth and feeble
wing, in the woods; and at Mr. Edmonstone’s not one appeared.

After our return from the forest, we partook of a most plentiful dinner,
and in the evening strolled about the environs, either separately, or in
divided parties, according to our several inclinations. In this ramble
it happened that I trod my way into an Indian hut, where I found the
family, consisting of a man, two women, and three children, employed
preparing their pepper-pot and cassada for supper.

The next morning I rose at an early hour, and returned to the spot,
intending to repeat my visit to this group of Indians; when, lo! I found
only the empty hut! Probably they had a better reason for moving, than
my disturbing them by an abrupt evening call; but, whatever occasioned
it, they had packed up the furniture and utensils of their humble abode,
and taking all with them into their canoe, decamped in the night, into
the woods.

From the Indian hut I walked into the forest, and, having a small
thermometer in my pocket, I suspended it, for some time, in the damp and
heavy shade of the woods; when it fell to 72: I, then, immersed it in
the open water of the creek, and it rose to 73½. In the house it was at
73; at noon on the day preceding, the mercury was at 81.

Before I take you from the forest-embosomed abode of Mr. Edmonstone, I
should tell you that in a small garret of this sequestered home is
living a very extraordinary character, in the person of an old Scotsman,
an antiquated and eccentric being of the school of Loutherbourg; and who
is, here, regarded as a literary phænomenon—a _literal_ one he certainly
is! He had formerly known better days; but having been reduced to
poverty, he is become an exile from his country, and in this profound
seclusion, passes his declining days in the dull and harmless round of
reading an old Hebrew bible, and two or three worm-eaten volumes of
Greek and Latin. His person is plain, his figure meager, and his visage
pallid. In manner, he is formal and pedantic. His wardrobe and furniture
vie with the antiquity of his library, and both apparel and apartment
well accord with his limited occupation. His wants being few and easily
supplied, he lives contented and happy. We found him teaching Mr.
Edmonstone’s children to read: and this we understood to be a duty of
relaxation—a kind of remission from his converse with the musty old
volumes, in the perusal and re-perusal of which he finds the solace of
his cares, and the gratification of all his remaining ambition.

We loitered away the forenoon at Mr. Edmonstone’s, sending our boat
round by way of the creeks, and the river, to meet us at an estate
called Sand-hill, in the evening. We likewise despatched a smaller boat
down the river, with the specimens of plants, roots, and cuttings we had
collected in the woods; and, after making an early dinner with Mr.
Edmonstone, he very kindly took us on, in his large canoe, to prosecute
our journey. We returned down the Mabeira creek; but, instead of going
north, when we opened into the Woratilla to proceed to the Kamonuy
creek, and the river, we took the opposite course in order to penetrate
deeper into the woods; and, when we had paddled, to a short distance, up
the southern channel of the Woratilla creek, we were set on shore upon
its eastern bank, and from thence took our route, on foot, through the
forest to the Sand-hill.

This was a walk of two hours over rude hills, across deep gullies, and
through woods, which to an European seemed impenetrable. The forest
lies, as it were, in waves of alternate ridges and valleys, and the
trees stand so close together, that a person unaccustomed to such
travelling could have no hope of making his way through it. At best our
path was only that of the Bucks, which compelled us to follow each other
in the unsocial single line, and, at several times, this obscure track
was not discernible _to us_: but an experienced old _negro_, whom Mr.
Edmonstone had selected as our guide and conductor, seemed to know every
tree and twig we had to pass; and directed our steps, with as much
accuracy, as if a broad turnpike road had been all the way before him;
although it often happened that we had to form a path by pulling away
the branches and brambles with our hands.

A short time previous to our arrival at the Sand-hill, we suddenly
escaped out of the deep shades of the forest, and one of the most varied
and beautiful scenes, which can be found in the colony, opened before
us. Suppose yourself in a country where flat waters, and heavy woods
form one unbroken sameness, and imagine that after a walk of two hours,
through the obscurity of almost impenetrable forests, you, unexpectedly,
rush forth upon an extensive plain, where the eye immediately fixes upon
a handsome house, together with a bold curve of a large river, winding
its course, at a great depth below you, and the view stretching far over
the woods of its opposite bank, then you will have a tolerably accurate
picture of the scene which presented itself before us, at the Sand-hill.
It was highly novel, being more open, varied, and extended than at any
other inhabited spot of these boundless forests.

Correctly speaking, the land which appeared to us as a plain, was a hill
of sand, whose flat surface was elevated at least a hundred feet about
the river, and overhung the water in a bold precipice; but the opposite
shore was low and flat, being scarcely raised above the level of the
river, which caused the uninterrupted summit of its thick woods to
appear before us, like a verdant field of unlimited extent.

We advanced to the house, quite enraptured with its commanding
situation: but,—shall I tell you? ... it was the abode of inhospitality!
Shall I say that this house, “erected on the rising ground,” was,
perhaps, the only one in the colony, where a stranger would have found
an _unwelcome home_! We were greeted with a forbidding coldness—a
freezing formality; and were entertained with a miserable penury, of
which I had not believed the coast of Guiana could furnish an example;
and I feel penetrated with grief and disappointment in marking the
Sand-hill as an exception to the general hospitality, which I had found
to prevail so eminently in these colonies.

I will not attempt to decide how far the conduct of the lord of this
domain might be influenced by climate, but there was much of semblance
between the coldness of his manner, and the chilling air of his place of
residence; for, on our entering upon the plain of the Sand-hill, when we
came out of the forest, we had all felt shivering with cold, and were
glad to put on our coats, which we had thrown off in our walk through
the woods. Between five and six o’clock the next morning I found the
thermometer at 67; and, at noon, it was only 80.

It consisted with the tides of the river, and with our convenience, in
waiting the leisure of Mr. Edmonstone, to make this repulsive home our
resting-place for the night, and until the afternoon of the following
day; but the ungracious reception, we met with, caused the hours to pass
very heavily: as soon, therefore, as the tide served, and Mr. Edmonstone
was ready to accompany us, we took our departure for the “Loo,”
quitting, without regret, the most delightful situation in the colony.




                              LETTER XXV.


                                                                  March.

The Loo is a plantation belonging to Mr. Haslin. The slaves were
employed four hours in rowing to this estate from the Sand-hill. At the
time we arrived, the manager was from home: but, nevertheless, we took
possession of the mansion, spread the cloth, and, placing our ham and
the other provisions of the boat upon table, sat down without ceremony
to supper. On his return the manager unexpectedly found, in his chamber,
a party of seven, seated round the social board; and in our suite were
no less than fifteen slaves, making together a body of twenty-two
persons, who with provisions, hammocks, and baggage, nearly filled the
house so as to prevent its master from entering: but, like a true
colonist of the country, and unlike the repulsive lord of the Sand-hill,
this gentleman hailed us with cordial greetings, expressed himself happy
to see the whole party, and even apologized for, what he was pleased to
term, his misfortune, in not being at home to welcome our arrival.
Immediately all the best things of the larder were added to our supper,
and our bountiful host further intreated us to suspend our appetites,
and allow him to dress fowls, eggs, and all he could prepare, to improve
the meal. In short, his conduct was consistent with the prevailing
urbanity of the colony, and in the generous attentions of the Loo we
forgot the arid and inhospitable Sand-hill. The evening passed away very
pleasantly, and our hammocks were conveniently slung for the night.
Early in the morning we resumed our seats in the boat. Coffee was served
to us at the time of rising, and we set off, without delay, to prosecute
our journey to “the Falls.”

The mercury in the thermometer was this morning at 72, being five
degrees higher than at the same hour of the preceding day, at the more
elevated situation of the Sand-hill.

After rowing for about three hours and a half up the river, we felt some
calls of appetite, and finding ourselves near to a plantation, we, in
the true marooning spirit, went on shore in search of breakfast. Our
reception was friendly, and we were welcomed with much civility by the
manager, whom we found to be a petit-maître, whose fondness for the
decoration of his person was very conspicuous, and afforded us some
diversion. An Adonis in the woods was a great novelty; and,
notwithstanding his politeness and liberality towards us, we could not
but smile at the gaiety of his apparel, particularly the depth of his
frills and ruffles, which, full-flowing at his wrists and bosom, almost
enveloped his meager person. Amidst the undressed Africans, and the
still more naked Indians, about his home, he of course was unrivalled,
and possessed the superlative gratification of standing alone, the _rara
avis_ of the forest.

But to the honor of this solitary _beau_, his foibles in no degree
interrupted his better feelings. He was correctly _au fait_ with respect
to the hospitable attentions due to strangers; and he entertained us
with the utmost cordiality. Nor did he confine himself barely to
receiving and accommodating us with civility, but, further, expressed
much regret that we were come for so short a visit, and urgently invited
us to prolong our stay. At breakfast he provided us with a high feast,
by giving us some hot rolls and fresh butter, together with a dish of
fine oranges and other fruits.

After pursuing our journey about three hours further up the river, we
came to the cottage of a wood-cutter, where we met with a very active
and intelligent negro woman, who welcomed us to her master’s home, and
adding a laba pepper-pot to our boat-provisions, quickly set before us a
very neat and plentiful dinner.

We afterwards made a visit to a mulatto man, named John Hill, an
eccentric character, well known to the gentlemen of the colony; and who
had here built himself a small house, in which he was settled as a free
inhabitant, living in a sort of independence upon the wood-cutter’s
estate.

In the course of our walk, I had the opportunity of observing a species
of negro-labour that was new to me; having met a party of sixteen naked
slaves, male and female, in the act of dragging the trunk of an immense
tree out of the forest, with ropes. They were conducted by a driver with
his whip: and pulled on the load by mere strength of arm, having no
assistance from any machinery, and only availing themselves of the
simple expedient of placing small billets of wood under the tree, at
short distances from each other, in order to prevent it from sinking
into the dirt, and doubling their toil.

Finding that it would be a long and fatiguing journey, to make the whole
of the distance, from the wood-cutter’s to Mr. Mutz’s, the
Post-holder’s, on the morrow, and learning that there was a tolerable
building on the way, where we might hang up our hammocks for the night,
we rowed two or three hours further in the evening, borrowing an old
negro woman to take with us as a guide, lest, in the approaching
darkness, we might pass the hut without observing it.

The scenery sensibly improved, as we advanced up the river. During this
day’s journey we saw some lofty, irregular hills, which formed a very
pleasing and picturesque variety, and relieved the dull uniformity of
smooth water, and flat woods, so peculiar to this coast.

About eight o’clock we arrived at the dwelling which had been pointed
out to us as a convenient resting-place for the night. Its exterior was
not very inviting, and we found both house and accommodations the most
comfortless of all that we met with throughout our expedition. The rooms
were small and confined, but neatness happened not to be a predominant
passion of the possessor. We felt no inducement to banquet away the
night, but took a glass of simple grog, and very soon after our arrival,
retired supperless to our hammocks; some in a close unpleasant chamber;
the others, like the Bucks, under an open hovel.

We rose with the sun, and, being glad to escape from the house, made the
boat our dressing-room; then, according to the Dutch custom, defended
our stomachs from the morning damp, by a cup of coffee, and, without
further delay, proceeded on our way to Mr. Mutz’s, the remotest European
residence in the colony.

In this part of our journey, the whole scenery became strikingly
changed, and, after the insipid monotony of flat woods and water, the
objects which now presented themselves were so novel and varied, that
all around us seemed calculated to excite a strong and peculiar
interest. Many of the inhabitants of the forest were moving upon the
river in their canoes; some alone, some in families, and some in larger
bodies: cottages and Indian huts occasionally opened to our view in the
woods: high banks sometimes bordered the river; and, not unfrequently,
hills and lofty summits crowned its shores.

From the Bucks, whom we met in their canoes, we purchased a few parrots
and Amazonian parroquets, called Keiz-keiz, together with some bows and
arrows, war-clubs, and various specimens of Indian implements, and
household apparatus; and feeling anxious not to pass, unnoticed, any
thing that might afford us gratification, we went on shore to make short
visitings at the several huts and cottages which caught our observation
in the woods, or upon the banks of the river.

At one of these places of call we found a Dutchman named Hasmond, who
had recently taken up his abode in this sequestered part of the colony.
Upon our remarking that he had very much the air of an old soldier, we
were informed that he had been many years in the army of the Prince of
Orange, and having retired from the service, had now built himself a
small house, and settled here to seek his fortune, as a wood-cutter.

At another of the cottages we met with an aged Spaniard, named Pezano,
perhaps the most eccentric character, and the most remarkable personage
of the colony. This man had formed to himself a little cottage-abode,
and was living at this secluded home in the woods, the friend and
associate, and a kind of chief among the Bucks; although more than sixty
years old, he had made his selection from the forests, and had taken,
unto himself, no less than four Indian wives; who were handsome, and
some youthful, the youngest being only eleven years of age. Thus you
find disparity of years, between man and wife, is not peculiar to
polished circles, or opulent cities: neither is the spirit of intrigue,
for Pezano’s wives are not said to rival the chaste Penelope.

This Spaniard was originally from Oronoko: but he had passed
twenty-eight years, as a manager upon different estates in the colonies
of Demarara and Essequibo; and had now appropriated to himself an abode
amidst the great family of the woods; where, from cultivating the
friendship of the Bucks, he induces them to assist him in felling timber
to sell to the colonists; by which means, together with the produce of
his gun, and the planting of roots, and other culinary vegetables, about
his dwelling, he procures a sufficiency of food for the support of
himself and his women. In colour Pezano is scarcely fairer than his
Indian associates. He is low in stature, of spare habit, and decrepit
figure, but is lively and animated, and possesses great energy of mind,
with far more of bodily activity, than his figure seems to indicate.
Anticipating much of information and amusement from his conversation, we
were desirous to have the old Spaniard as our guide, from the
Post-holder’s to the Falls, and therefore invited him to accompany us in
the boat to Mr. Mutz’s. He expressed a willingness to oblige us: but
Pezano might not move in obscurity! He was here a king, and must proceed
in state. He would take his leisure, and, attended by his proper
retinue, come at another hour. Having obtained his promise, we were
satisfied, and, leaving to his choice the mode in which he should
travel, we took our departure, and proceeded, without further delay, to
Ooest Vriesland, the abode of the Post-holder; where we arrived about
three o’clock in the afternoon.

This is the remotest dwelling,—the furthest from the coast and the sea,
possessed by Europeans, in the settlement. It forms the link of
connexion between the bay natives of the woods, and the white
inhabitants of the colony, being established by the latter as a post of
communication for the purpose of administering friendly offices, and
cultivating an amicable intercourse with the Indians.

A short time after we arrived, Pezano and his suite were descried,
paddling up the river, in two loaded canoes. Upon their reaching the
landing-place, we discovered that the venerable Spaniard was attended by
three of his wives; also by a party of the Bucks, under command of an
old Indian, who was appointed their captain, and decorated with a broad
laced hat, carrying in his hand, as a further token of distinction, a
tall silver-headed staff, with which he preceded his troop in all the
stateliness of his office.

Next to king Pezano, the bearer of these insignia felt himself the
mightiest prince of the forest, and affected an air of dignity, not less
consequential, than is sometimes assumed by greater men, upon being
invested with a wand, or a riband.

The house of the Post-holder is rather small, but arranged with much
neatness. It is pleasantly situated upon rising ground, and commands a
fine bend of the river, which flows before it in a clear and limpid
stream. We found it an interesting and agreeable resting-place. The door
was opened to us with a cheerful welcome. Our reception was strictly
hospitable, and we were entertained with a liberality as unbounded, as
it was unaffected.

From Mr. Mutz we learned that, by making a long day of the morrow, we
might complete our journey to “the Falls,” and return to his house in
the evening. This was pleasant as unexpected intelligence; for beyond
the Post-holder’s dwelt neither European nor colonist: nor was there any
place of call whatsoever. The forest was possessed only by its wild
inhabitants, and for every accommodation, we must depend upon the
limited resources of our boat. Relying therefore upon Mr. Mutz to make
the necessary arrangements for the remainder of our voyage, we left it
to him and Pezano, to plan our proceedings for the following day.

The Post-holder is married to a Dutchwoman, but we had not the pleasure
of this lady’s society. She was in ill health, and had been sent into
the woods, to the Bucks, to be cured. I could not learn what were the
remedies used by the Indians for her relief: but I procured a few
specimens of gums, and nuts, employed by these inhabitants of the
forest, in their practice of medicine.

Mr. Mutz pleaded the absence of his lady in excuse for treating us with,
what he was pleased to term, “such homely fare.” But we could discover
no cause of apology whatever, for a general neatness prevailed, and an
ample plenty spread the generous board.

We had also the great luxury of pure spring water, clear as crystal. I
need not tell you how much more highly this was prized, than if it had
been the finest wine. It was the first I had tasted in the colony, and
was an uncommon treat to me; for, although I continue to take wine, as a
convalescent, water is still my usual drink.

Whilst the dinner was preparing, we amused ourselves, in company with
Pezano and a party of Indians, shooting with the bow and arrow. The
afternoon passed very delightfully, in hearing the conversation and
interesting remarks of the Post-holder, and the old Spaniard. In the
evening, we again strung the bow; some of us also enjoyed the pleasure
of bathing in the very inviting and pellucid river.

About nine o’clock we went to our hammocks, some in chambers, some in
the passages, and some under the house, which was built upon pillars, a
considerable height from the ground. It will be seen from this, how
little difficulty occurs in lodging large parties of friends or
strangers, in a warm climate. Neither extensive buildings, nor a number
of rooms, nor even beds, paillasses, or mattresses are required. A few
cleets, or iron hooks, fastened up in different parts of the house, for
the support of hammocks, are all that necessity demands. From this
facility of arrangement for the night, the ceremony of invitation is not
always held requisite, and it is often seen that marooning parties,
consisting of no inconsiderable numbers, make their visitations
unexpectedly, yet find convenient accommodations even in the smallest
houses, and the most retired situations.




                              LETTER XXVI.


                                                                  March.

The next morning we rose at three o’clock to prepare for our last day’s
journey up the river. At a little before five we went into the boat,
accompanied by Pezano, and attended by a venerable Indian in his canoe.
We were six hours and a half rowing to the falls. On the way we saw,
within the woods at the sides of the river, several houses of the
Indians, some of which we visited; but we met fewer of the Bucks moving
in their canoes, than we had seen the preceding day. In one of the
houses we found Mrs. Mutz, the wife of the Post-holder, lying in a
hammock suspended over a fire, according to the Indian mode of sleeping.

This part of the country was diversified with hills; some of which were
more lofty than any we had passed in the course of the river, and at one
spot we observed, for the first time upon the coast of Guiana, a naked
rock of stone, hanging in huge form, over the edge of the water. It
being the only mass of the kind, I might almost say the only stone, that
I had seen in the colony, I took away a piece as a specimen of the
mineralogy of the country.

At half past eleven o’clock, we arrived at what are called _the falls_—a
term which had conveyed to my expectation the idea of a cascade, perhaps
something like the falls of Schaffhausen, or the great body of the river
pouring down from a vast height in one immense column, forming an
example of very grand, or highly picturesque scenery: but you will judge
of my disappointment, when you are informed that instead of a second
Niagara, these falls were merely the shallow water, gently rippling in
broken stream, over some irregular rocks of whinstone, which here
crossed the river from side to side, and that they more resembled the
running of an ordinary brook, than the rushing torrent of a loud-roaring
cascade. Nothing could be more tame and unimpressive. We were able to
row in the boat up to the very rocks, and even to step upon them, in the
middle of the current that was passing over them, without wetting our
shoe-tops. In no part were the falls two feet in height. The Indians are
in the habit of carrying their canoes over them, and proceeding in their
course up the river: or, in the rainy season, when the stream is more
rapid, they make a path in the bordering woods, and carry their canoes
through the forest, until they have passed the falls, and then resume
their voyage upon the water.

After inspecting all that we wished to see, and breaking off some
specimens of the rock which caused the falls, we took our dinners in the
boat, and concluded our expedition up the river by marking its date,
together with each of our names, upon a piece of paper, which we
inclosed in a glass bottle, and having corked it securely, left it
fastened up in one of the trees, upon the bank of the river.

I wish it were possible to convey to you a just idea of the joy and
happiness expressed by the negroes, upon putting about the boat to
return. From rowing a heavy load always against the current, and
sometimes against the tide, together with feeling no interest in the
voyage, nor in any way comprehending the object of it, the journey, to
them, had been very fatiguing, and they were totally at a loss to
conjecture why we should have undertaken it. Each seemed to say by his
looks, “What have ye journeyed hither to see?” and one of them even
ventured to ask, “_For what Massa come so far?_” when on being informed
that it was to see the country, and the river, he exclaimed, “_Country,
where country? River, wa’ river?_” then, all of them uttering a loud,
and most significant laugh, they plied their oars with redoubled vigour,
to conduct us back towards the sea. At the very turning of the boat all
sense of fatigue was banished, and with unurged exertion they rowed Us
to the Post-holder’s within three hours and a half; notwithstanding a
considerable delay, produced by our going on shore to ascend one of the
hills at the side of the water, which we conjectured to be about 200
feet above the level of the river.

We remarked that upon this hill the woods did not appear so thick and
crowded as they are commonly found to be upon the lower lands, nearer
the sea; but the trees were of stronger growth, and formed pillars of
uncommonly majestic stature, being, both in height and diameter,
immense. Towards the bottom, they throw out several flattened
projections, which, making so many parts of the trunk, stand round it,
like the supporting buttresses of an old cathedral, and form, between
them, deep recesses, into which it would be possible to retire for
concealment, or for protection, against the heaviest storms of rain; and
in some instances ten or twelve persons might find shelter between these
projections, within the superficies of a single tree.

We arrived at Mr. Mutz’s between six and seven o’clock, just as it was
growing dark, and found a plentiful supper, prepared by the bounteous
Post-holder, for our refreshment.

The society of Mr. Mutz and Pezano afforded us another very pleasant
evening, and I could gladly have sat until morning listening to their
anecdotes and observations; but, at an hour, which to me seemed early,
as indeed any hour would, under such circumstances, we retired to our
sleeping-births, placed as on the preceding night.

At six o’clock we again left our hammocks, when, from the chilliness of
the air, all the party complained of cold, and on placing the
thermometer at the outside of the door, the mercury fell to 66; which
was one degree below what it had been at the same hour at the Sand-hill,
and as low as I had seen it, in any situation, upon this coast.

Having effected the leading objects of our excursion, it only remained
to us to return with all speed, and exchange the wild scenery of rocks,
hills, and lofty forests, for the muddy coast, and flat fields of sugar
and cotton. Accordingly we made our acknowledgments to Pezano and the
Post-holder, and, as soon as we had breakfasted, took our seats in the
boat to proceed down the river. Early in the afternoon we arrived at the
wood-cutter’s, where we had been so hospitably received by the
intelligent black woman of the house. Unluckily the master was again
absent, but we were liberally entertained, as before, by his kind Wowski
and Mr. John Hill, the mulatto, who very quickly added to our
boat-supply a pepper-pot, some cassada, and such other provisions as the
situation afforded.

Hill had been into the woods in the morning, and killed a fine laba,
which, immediately upon our arrival, was scalded to remove its coat, and
within a few minutes it was cut in pieces, and put into the kettle with
cassada juice, pods of red pepper, and various vegetables, for the
purpose of being stewed into a most excellent pepper-pot, which in a
little time was placed on the table.

The negroes took their meal of rice, and after giving them sufficient
rest to fit them for their further toil, we proceeded upon our journey,
purposing to sleep at the Loo; but it grew late before we reached this
estate, and the tide being for some time against us, it was a day of
severe labour to the slaves, yet they supported it with great
cheerfulness; and, in their willing exertions, evinced the high
satisfaction they felt on returning towards the coast and the town.
Exclusive of delays and stoppages we were fourteen hours on the water.
Towards the end of the journey we felt extremely anxious on account of
the fatigue of the negroes; but upon one of the gentlemen saying that
“surely the Loo must have run away,” they replied with animation,
“_Neber mind Massa, if he run to de Sand-hill, we catch him dere_:”—the
Sand-hill was sixteen or seventeen miles further down the river.

The evening was peculiarly still. A dampness hung over the water, and
although the thermometer fell only to 74, the air felt chilly; but the
moon shone bright, and upon the whole it was pleasant; we felt glad,
therefore, of the opportunity of making a tranquil moonlight journey,
upon the silent river, amidst these wild and endless woods. At one spot
we heard the sound of paddles upon the water, and on listening to it,
found that a canoe was pursuing us. Presently it came up with us, and we
were accosted by some negroes, who had been despatched by the proprietor
of an estate which we had passed, to invite us to return and spend the
evening at his house. At this moment we thought ourselves nearer to the
Loo than we really were, and declined the invitation: but afterwards, on
account of the slaves, we were sorry that we had not accepted it. It was
half past ten o’clock when we arrived at the Loo, and all the family
were in bed; but they quickly roused from their repose, and, in a short
time, a supper of grilled chickens, and various other dishes was set
before us. At midnight we very willingly sought our hammocks, having
suffered nearly as much fatigue from sitting still so many hours, as the
negroes had experienced from the labour of pulling the oars.

The next morning all the party had their ears and noses actually pinched
with cold, and on observing the thermometer, we found that it had fallen
to 65¾, being ¼ of a degree lower than at the Post-holder’s. Some of the
gentlemen even complained that they had been kept awake in the night,
from the severity of the cold, which was a very unusual occurrence, and
such as I had not before witnessed in this climate.

Coffee was served to us at the hour of rising, and we afterwards sat
down to a most copious breakfast, consisting of cassada-bread, ham,
fresh butter, roasted potatoes, plantains, tea, coffee, &c. &c.

We embarked at the earliest moment of the tide, in order to make a long
day, and, if possible, to reach an estate called the _Garden of Eden_ at
night; which with great toil we did effect at half past ten o’clock: the
whole day being spent afloat. About dinner-time we found ourselves
opposite the Sand-hill, but, recollecting our former unwelcome
reception, we contented ourselves with resting upon our oars, in the
middle of the river, to take our dinner of bread and cheese, and cold
ham, without going on shore.

This day was even more severe for the negroes, than the day preceding,
but they still laboured with great willingness, being impatient to reach
the town, besides knowing that, upon the way, there was no other
convenient resting-place for the night, and that from being longer
absent than we had expected, we were all anxious to arrive at Stabroek
as speedily as possible. But, however willing the exertions of the
slaves, strong signs of fatigue were evinced, long before we came to the
Garden of Eden; and it was only by great encouragement, and a
well-devised stratagem, that we were prevented from being detained all
night on the water. Observing that they rowed with languor, and that we
made but little progress, the cockswain was desired to exchange the helm
for an oar, and to enliven his comrades with a song, encouraging them to
join in chorus, and to pull together in musical time. This operated with
magic effect. Every slave seemed to be inspired, and forgetting all
sense of weariness, they laboured with renovated spirit. We were not
more pleased with the result of the expedient, than amused by the ready
ingenuity with which our wizard cockswain composed his appropriate song,
and gave it all the effect of enchantment. Resigning the helm to the
weakest slave, he placed himself amidst the crew in the centre of the
boat, and plying his oar more vigorously than the others, he invented
extempore lines for a favorite African tune, finishing each stanza with
“_gnyaam gnyaam row, gnyaam gnyaam row_,” in which all were to join by
way of chorus; and we found that “gnyaam gnyaam row” never failed to
give additional force to the oar, and consequent head-way to our
pinnace.

The names of the slaves, their wives, their food, drink, and all their
pleasures were introduced in song, and tuned to the stroke of the oar;
likewise the names of each of the party whom they were rowing, their
professions, qualities, and occupations, and their several intentions
towards the crew, all made a part of this inspiring air, which, however
ridiculous in the words and music, in its effect succeeded even to a
wonder. The tugging of the oar, the directing of the helm, even the
position of the slaves, and the compensation each might expect, as the
reward of his toil, were all adroitly included, and “gnyaam gnyaam row”
accompanied and invigorated every stretch of the oar. Led on by these
persuasive themes, each seemed to emulate the exertions of the
all-animating cock swain, and throwing off the heavy marks of fatigue,
they conducted us merrily and speedily to “Garden-Eden.”




                             LETTER XXVII.


                                                                  March.

Garden-Eden is an extensive sugar estate, belonging to Mr. T. Cuming, a
rich planter of much merit, and of great influence in the colony. It is
under the management of a Mr. Boyce, by whom we were received with
greetings worthy the prevailing hospitality of Guiana, treated with an
excellent supper, and Falernum wine, and accommodated in comfort until
morning.

Previous to our departure from this estate, I was requested to make a
visit at one of the huts in the negro yard; where, it was said, I might
witness a phenomenon, and be “convinced of a fact which overturns all
the sceptical reasonings of medical men,” regarding the influence of
imagination upon the conformation of the human frame, and its power of
conferring or altering the figure of the fœtus _in utero_.

The subject of our visitation was a mulatto man * * * * * twenty-eight
years of age, who is said to have been born with all his bones broken,
in consequence of his mother having been present at the infliction of a
horrible punishment. Perhaps, as one of the medical tribe, I may be
allowed to maintain my scepticism, even with this example before my
eyes; still, as the appearances of the object, and the circumstances of
the case, were peculiar, and some of them well authenticated, I cannot,
consistently with the plan of our correspondence, omit noting to you
what I heard related of the history, and what I observed with regard to
the figure of this very singular mulatto.

The father was a strong and healthy Dutch soldier: the mother a robust,
well-formed negro woman. They had four children, all of whom are now
arrived at the age of puberty: three of them are athletic and handsome
mulattoes, and remarkable for the symmetry of their figures; the fourth
is the subject in question.

The father is dead, but the mother is still living; and was brought to
me, that I might witness the form of her person, inquire into the state
of her constitution, and ask her any questions which the case before us
should suggest. She assured me that both herself and the father had
enjoyed general good health, and had considered themselves as having
been blessed with a happy exemption from disease: but that when she was
recently pregnant of this son, she had unfortunately gone to see the
execution of a man who was condemned to be broken upon the wheel; and
that upon witnessing this dreadful torture, she was so struck with
horror, as to be taken extremely ill, and was scarcely able to return to
her home. She represented the sensations of the moment as very
distressing, but was unable to convey any accurate description of her
feelings. For some time afterwards it was expected that abortion would
follow; but that not having happened, she was delivered, at the usual
period of gestation, of this broken and disfigured offspring. Her having
been present at the execution, and being so frightened as to be suddenly
taken ill, were confirmed by one of the gentlemen of our party, with
whose family she then lived. The circumstance of her recent pregnancy,
at the time, was likewise proved by the fact of her delivery afterwards;
but the precise period of it, at the date of the torture, I could not
accurately ascertain. She is now of advanced age, and somewhat lame, but
has still the remains of a well-formed person. Upon examining her I
observed an eruption of the cra-cra about the point of one elbow, and a
small irregular tumor upon the sternum; but these were explained to be
of late origin. In all other respects she seemed to possess health and
strength in proportion to her years.

The figure of the son cannot be described by words. His person appeared
as if it had been composed by throwing the materials into a bag, with a
loose congeries of broken bones, and shaking the whole together until
they assumed a shape approaching to that of a human being. It was not
the tortuous construction usually occurring from scrofula, or the
rickets. He had not the crooked twisted bones of disease. They appeared
as if they had literally been broken, and some of them badly united,
some not united at all. The common marks of a sickly constitution were
absent, and he enjoyed a state of general health fully proportioned to
the structure of his frame: indeed, from the minutest examination, I do
not feel myself authorized to consider this very peculiarly deranged
conformation as the effect of disease, but am rather inclined to regard
it as an extraordinary _lusus naturæ_.

His head was the only part that was well formed, and this, although of
natural size, appeared very large, owing to the great disproportion of
the body and extremities, which, from their distortion, had not grown in
due course with the head.

With regard to his mental faculties nothing peculiar was noticed. He
answered the questions which were put to him expertly, and was
considered in point of intellect to be quite equal to the generality of
the people of colour.

I placed my elbow at his side, when he was sitting as upright as his
figure would admit, and extending my hand upwards, found that his
height, from the seat to the crown of his head, was not quite equal to
the length of my forearm, from the elbow to the extremities of the
fingers.

Every rib, and every limb seemed as if it had been fractured. The long
bones of the arms, being divided in their middles, were loosely held
together by membranous or ligamentous unions. Those of the legs appeared
as if they had been broken, and the two parts (or rather the four parts
of the tibia and fibula) afterwards placed together in a direction
parallel with each other, and thus united into one broad flat bone, the
end of which projected considerably forward in the middle of the leg,
thinly covered with integuments, while the lower part of the limb was
thrown backwards, with the heel up towards the thigh, so that if he had
been placed in the erect posture, the points of the toes would have been
brought to the ground, instead of the flat part of the foot.

He had not the power of moving from his seat without assistance, except
in a very slight degree, by a writhing, twisting, and most unseemly
motion, wholly unassisted by his limbs. During the day he remains always
in the sitting posture, and, from the distortion of his lower
extremities, these are brought into a position somewhat resembling those
of a tailor at his work. With some difficulty he could make the lower
arm reach the head, but this was effected more from a kind of flexure,
at the ligamentous union in the middle of the bone of the upper arm,
than from a direct motion of the shoulder joint, the action of which was
extremely limited, from the want of the fulcrum commonly afforded to the
muscles by the bone of the arm.

Having breakfasted, and made our visit to the poor broken-boned mulatto,
we took a long walk into the sugar-fields of the Garden of Eden, in
order to employ ourselves during the remainder of the time, whilst we
were waiting for high water; and as soon as the tide served, we went
into the boat to complete our expedition. Some beef and a roasted
chicken were added to our store of provisions by Mr. Boyce; and without
stopping to go on shore, we took our dinners upon the water, in order
that we might have the advantage of the whole tide, which, in this part
of our passage, was very strongly the friend of our cheerful and willing
slaves. Early in the afternoon of March 7th we arrived at the
landing-place (or Sterling) at Stabroek, having been absent eleven days,
during which time we had traversed the woods, visited a variety of
estates, and made an excursion of nearly two hundred miles.

No accident, nor disaster, had occurred to interrupt us. We travelled
with great convenience. The utmost harmony and satisfaction prevailed;
and we returned in good health and spirits, highly gratified with our
expedition. The journey was arranged and executed precisely as I could
have wished; and I am gratefully sensible of the politeness of my kind
companions, while I cordially thank them for the peculiar pleasure it
has afforded me.

Having made a similar excursion up the river Berbische, I frequently
hear it remarked, that I have seen more of the country, the forests, and
the waters of these colonies already, than almost any of the
inhabitants, although many of them have been here a greater number of
years, than I can yet count of months.

I took an opportunity before, of noting to you, the great stability of
temperature which prevails upon this coast; and I may now observe that
this is not much interrupted even at the distance of 200 miles from the
sea. In the cultivated part of the colonies, upon the immediate margin
of the ocean, the range of the thermometer has been mostly confined
between 72 and 85 degrees: at the remotest estates up the river, it at
no time exceeded 84, for, notwithstanding we felt an occasional
closeness in the atmosphere, still the wind was never entirely absent,
and its deficiency was made up by the greater dampness and evaporation
from the woods, so that the heat, at the falls, was not greater than in
the full and open breeze of the coast: but, in point of coldness, the
variation was more considerable, and we felt more sensibly affected by
it. At the Sand-hill we bad chilly sensations, although the mercury fell
only to 67 degrees. At the Loo, it was as low as 65¾, when the cold was
quite piercing, and I may now add, that the greatest range in high
situations up the river, far from the coast, has been from 65¾ to 84
degrees, while the utmost variation upon the flat and cultivated
territory near the sea, has been from 72 to 87.

The river is spacious, and not only an ornament of the colony, but
highly useful to it, in a commercial point of view. It is navigable for
vessels of considerable burden, nearly as far as the falls. Its lower
part, to the distance of many miles above the town, is muddy, and
strongly impregnated with the salt water of the Atlantic, but from the
Sand-hill to the falls it is less impure and remarkably clear. We found
by the thermometer that it was, at all times, a slight degree warmer
than the superincumbent air. In point of width, it varies at different
parts, not growing regularly broader as it approaches the sea. At the
falls the channel is so narrowed, that, unaided by a sling, I was able
to throw a stone across it. At the Post-holder’s it was much wider, and
it was only with great force, that I could shoot an arrow over, from an
Indian bow of middle size: at several places between these two points,
it was of greater expansion. Beyond the falls it was also broader, than
immediately at that spot.

The following rude sketch will convey to you some idea of the distance,
from the opening of the river to the falls. It is according to the Dutch
measurement, and the most accurate I could obtain:

                 From                     To             Hours.
         The Town of Stabroek The Plantation Garden-Eden     4½
         Garden-Eden          The Sand-hill                  5¾
         The Sand-hill        Mr. Bower’s estate             3¾
         Mr. Bower’s          The Loo                        1¾
         The Loo              Mr. Lunck’s                    2¼
         Mr. Lunck’s          Amelie’s Waard                 2¾
         Amelie’s Waard       Mr. Mansfield’s                2½
         Mr. Mansfield’s      The Post-holder’s              6½
         The Post-holder’s    The Falls                      6½
                                                            ———
                                            Total Hours,    36¼
                                                            ———

I should remark that this is the time required in journeying up the
river, with the tide, occasionally, against the boat. To return towards
the sea, with the advantage of tide and current would require less time,
by six or seven hours; which shows the extreme inaccuracy of this mode
of calculating distance, except upon still canals, such as those of
Holland, where the traveller, in more than a common degree, escapes the
influence of adventitious circumstances.

The upper part of the river would be very interesting and diversified,
were its heavy forest thinned, and the banks enriched with cultivation;
but, from being closely bordered, on all parts, with crowded trees, it
exhibits a degree of sameness which becomes excessively fatiguing to the
traveller. At various points are inlets of smaller rivers, or creeks,
which form so many dark channels, into the still darker woods. In
passing up the river these are not seen to any extent of their course,
but they commonly appear only as deep black holes, at the edge of the
forest.

The Indians very seldom erect their houses upon the immediate banks of
the river, and whenever they happen to fix upon a situation near to it,
they are careful to leave some of the bush standing, for the purpose of
concealing the building. More frequently they establish their dwellings
upon the borders of the creeks, or within the woods at some distance
from the river. From being mere sheds, their habitations are readily
constructed, at any spot where they may chance to take up their abode:
in the selection of place, concealment, and convenience of embarkation,
seem to be the grand desiderata: the latter would appear to be
essential, as they often pack up every thing that belongs to them, in
the family canoe, and suddenly depart to seek another home.

On the subject of scenery, but little occurred worthy of remark. From
the uncultivated state of the country it exhibits a rude sameness. No
rich, nor striking point can be found: no varied prospect presents
itself from any quarter. The palm of pre-eminence lies in a manner
undecided, while water, and crowded woods form the universal scene.
Whether in a valley, or upon the hills the view is still the same, being
confined by the trees immediately around. No opening, no luxuriant nor
extended landscape is discovered; all is river and forest: or, if you
chance to open upon a plain, it is only a flat and wide surface—a vacant
savanna, still surrounded with _the bush_, and wholly devoid of
picturesque variety.

The Sand-hill was, perhaps, the only exception to this languid scenery.
There, the prospect was somewhat more animated, and from one bank of the
river being much elevated, and divested of trees, it commanded a view
across the water, to a considerable distance over the woods of the
opposite shore: still it comprehended merely the smooth water, and the
level green surface of the unbounded forest.

If I speak of the soil, it can be only in vague and general remark; but
it appeared to us that after the land became hilly, and irregular, it
was poor, and not such as seemed capable, under all the circumstances of
climate, &c. of being cultivated to much profit. In some parts it was
rocky; in others sandy; and, in all, very unlike the rich exuviæ which
form the flatter lands of this fertile coast.

I might notice it as a happy exemption that, during our excursion, we
were almost free from the tormenting annoyance of insects. In the
deepest woods their absence was remarkable. To me the musquitoes
constitute, perhaps, the greatest evil of the climate, and my bitten
limbs were peculiarly sensible of the respite they obtained during this
expedition. After we had passed the estate of Mr. Selles, where we spent
the first night, I observed only four of these insects.

It is remarked that neither in the rudest, nor in the best cultivated
parts of these countries do insects most abound. A state of the soil,
between high improvement, and wild neglect, or that sort of climate
created by partial cultivation, is most congenial to these noxious
tribes; and thus does the pestiferous atmosphere of half-cleared woods,
and half-cultivated fields seem to be at once the poison, and the
pabulum of animal life: operating with a twofold power, it generates the
minor, while it destroys the higher objects of creation.

On reaching the town we were hailed most cordially by our friends, who,
in our protracted return, had anticipated all the evils of sickness and
misfortune; and it seemed matter of surprise that so large a party
should have concluded such an extensive excursion, all in good health,
and without having met with any kind of accident or disaster. To some of
the gentlemen, the change from their ordinary habits and mode of life,
was great, and it would not have been surprising if, in this climate,
under such circumstances, troublesome effects had ensued; but, happily,
from the time of my losing the threatening sensations which oppressed me
at the period of our embarkation, not an individual among us suffered
any indisposition.

We derived much gratification from the expedition, and although our
collections from the animal, and mineral kingdoms, were but
inconsiderable, we profited of the vegetable world very amply; and it is
probable that the remembrance of our excursion will be perpetuated: for,
in the course of a few years, its effects will become conspicuous, from
a valuable assemblage of the plants and fruits of the forest enriching
the sugar estates, and cotton fields of the colonists.

Of the animal world a few monkies and Amazonian parroquets constituted
the whole of our collection; and of minerals all we had an opportunity
of procuring were two or three coarse specimens of common whinstone,
which we broke from the bed of “the Falls,” and the rocks in their
vicinity. Of the implements and apparatus of the Indians we obtained a
liberal store.

Much had been said of the multiplied perils of the forest, and we had
heard of fierce tigers, enormous snakes, poisonous serpents, runaway
negroes, ferocious savages, and various other dangerous inhabitants of
the woods and the waters, but it did not happen to us to be interrupted
by any of them: although tigers, serpents, Bush-negroes, and wild
Indians, doubtless, exist in these regions, the peril to be apprehended
from them, bears no proportion to the extravagant alarm pictured by the
fearful imaginations of stay-at-home travellers. In many parts the
profound stillness of the forest conveyed the idea of a lifeless
solitude; indeed from the utter silence which prevailed, it might have
seemed that we had wandered beyond the limits of animated creation.




                             LETTER XXVIII.


                                                     Demarara, March 18.

At my return from our late excursion the first object that attracted my
attention, upon approaching the barracks of the hospital department, was
a string of negroes singing out in the sailors’ cry,——Yeoh-yeoh,
yeoh-yeoh, and hauling at a long rope, towing something heavy round the
corner of the building. Curiosity arrested me, for a moment; when, alas!
I discovered at the end of the cord, the body of my poor horse! who, in
the last night of his master’s absence, had fallen a victim to the
fever, which spares neither man, nor the patient steed. He was now being
dragged away to his grave, and the pause I made brought me only the sad
gratification of casting a look upon his remains.

This is a serious loss to me, less on account of the exorbitant price of
horses in these colonies, than from the extreme difficulty, or perhaps
the impossibility of finding another, at any rate whatever. I had long
waded through the mud before an opportunity offered of providing myself,
and by mere chance, had, at length, been well suited; but I had scarcely
brought my horse into condition fit for riding, before he was snatched
from me, by what is often termed——the seasoning!

It happens, however, that I shall not long feel this privation, as
letters have, at length, arrived from head-quarters, containing orders
for my removal from the coast of Guiana to St. Domingo. This is the
arrangement to which I have been looking from my earliest arrival in
these colonies; but on account of its being so long delayed, and my
having received instructions for continuing here, I had begun to expect
that the hospital staff, already at St. Domingo, had been found
sufficient for the duties of that station, without recalling the
detachment of the medical department serving upon this coast: but, by
the letters which have now reached me, I learn that the direful malady
of these regions has been sadly fatal among the hospital officers at St.
Domingo; that, although the number of troops is considerably decreased,
the medical attendants have suffered so extensively, that strong
reinforcements are necessary, to enable the hospital department to do
justice to the yet remaining multitudes of sick.

In so far as this change of station will afford me an opportunity of
seeing more of the Western World, I shall hail it with satisfaction; but
my heart sorrows at the thought of treading in the steps of my lost
brethren and colleagues,—men, with whom I have lived in habits of
intimacy, and close friendship—partaking of the same perils, eating from
the same dish, and reposing in the same cabin; and notwithstanding I
neither regard the fever as contagious, nor feel the slightest personal
apprehension of disease, still I cannot but experience a mournful
depression, on being called to execute the urgent duties which I may
have to encounter, upon the very spot where my comrades have fallen. Nor
will it be without regret that I shall quit the hospitals of my own
creating, which, after nearly twelve months of anxious exertion, I have
brought into a state well fitted for affording the necessary
accommodations to the sick.




                              LETTER XXIX.


                                                     Demarara, March 29.

I might have told you in my last letter that the eighth inst., the day
after our return from our river excursion, was the Stadtholder’s
birth-day, and consequently a day of festivity at Demarara. It was
commemorated, by the Dutch officers, in our service, giving a splendid
ball and supper at their barrack in the evening: all the best company of
the colony was assembled on the occasion. The ball-room was extremely
crowded; and although it was so intensely hot that it was matter of
astonishment how any person could support the fatigue of dancing in it,
still the ladies, feeble and languid as they commonly appear, so much
enjoyed their favorite amusement, as not to retire to the supper-room
until nearly two o’clock in the morning. The supper was elegant, and
very handsomely served. It consisted of nearly 150 dishes, and was
composed of the choice fruits and dainties of the colony. Unhappily the
harmony of the festival was interrupted by the perverse conduct of one
of the party, a _soi-disant patriot_, who, in the violence of his
politics, opposed himself to the general will of the company, and
refused to stand up to drink the health of the Stadtholder. The officers
were highly incensed, at meeting with such an act of rudeness and
insult, from one of their guests, and some of them proposed to toss the
“patriot and his chair” out at window.

We read with great satisfaction, the arrival of the ship Cotton-Planter
at Portsmouth, after a passage of _a hundred and eight_ days from
Demarara. Not having sooner heard of her, we had many anxious
conjectures regarding her safety. She is one of the heavy Dutch vessels
which fell into our possession on the capture of these colonies; and
being a large ship, commodious for conveying troops across the Atlantic,
we put a party of invalids, with ulcers, on board her, to be carried to
England, under the immediate care of Mr. Beane, one of the mates of the
general hospital; and subject to the command of the Hon. Captain De
Courcy of the 93d regiment. Both from her form and bulk, we had expected
that she might make a tedious passage; but, even with all the delays of
our late ill-fated expedition in remembrance, our anticipations had not
led us to imagine that, without some great disaster, the voyage could
have been protracted to a period of nearly sixteen weeks.

I have again been led to attend one of those humiliating scenes—a sale
of _human_ merchandise; where I saw, what is here termed, a _prime
cargo_ of three hundred _men_ and _women_, from the Gold Coast of
Africa, all beings of our own species, exposed to public _vendue_, even
as the herds of sheep and oxen in Smithfield market! But,
notwithstanding I had been more than a year in the West Indies, I found
that my European feelings were not so blunted, as to allow me to witness
such a scene without experiencing the painful sensations, which
naturally arise in the breast of an Englishman, upon seeing his
fellow-creatures so miserably degraded.

The poor blacks were not exposed to view upon a high stool, in order to
be first examined, and then knocked down at the hammer, as at the sale
at Berbische, but were divided into three great lots, according to their
value; and, the price being fixed, the purchasers were left to select
from whichever division they might prefer. Boys, from eleven to fourteen
years of age, sold for 600 or 700 guilders: the price of the women was
from 700 to 800; and of the men from 700 to 900; but a few of the
strongest were valued somewhat higher. The agent who conducted the sale
is a liberal man, possessed of humane sentiments, and a cultivated mind,
but it is, unfortunately, _his calling_ to deal in human flesh. He very
justly remarked to me, that, in following this occupation, it is
necessary to _give an opiate_ to the finer feelings of nature.

The coarse airs, and indecent vulgarity exhibited by a negress (who had
probably been herself exposed in a similar manner), and a mulatto woman,
her associate, towards some of these poor African girls, were equally
striking and disgusting. Each of these cloudy nymphs had wheedled her
lord to grant her the privilege of choosing a slave, to be the immediate
attendant of her person; and in making their selection they used as
little delicacy in touching, turning about, and trying their fellow
blacks, as a butcher would in examining a pen of any other sort of
cattle in an open market. Common decency was outraged in these
proceedings, which grossly aggravated a scene that is at best cruelly
humiliating.

Shocked at what I had witnessed, and led into painful reflections upon
the sadly chequered lot of our species, I made my retreat from this
market of human woe, where not only the laws of decorum are openly
invaded, and the rules of propriety set at defiance, but where all the
social ties of our nature are broken down and bartered for gold.

Amidst a scene, every way repugnant to humanity I was pleased to remark
that a general sympathy was excited towards one particular family, whose
appeals to the compassion of the multitude were not less powerful than
their claims. This family consisted of a mother, three daughters, and a
son. The parent, whose days of youth were past, was still a well-looking
woman; the children appeared to be from fourteen to twenty years of age:
they were very like the mother, and still more resembled each other,
being all of distinguished face and figure, and decidedly the handsomest
negroes of the cargo. Their distress, lest they should be separated, and
sold to different masters, was so strongly depicted upon their
countenances, and expressed in such lively, and impressive appeals, that
the whole crowd were, impulsively, led to commiserate their sufferings;
and, by universal consent, they were removed from the three great lots,
and placed in a corner by themselves, in order that they might all be
sold to the same master.

Observing their extreme agitation, I was led particularly to notice
their conduct, as influenced by the terror of being torn from each
other, when I may truly say, that I witnessed a just and faithful
representation of ... _the distressed mother_! and such as might bid
defiance even to the powers of a Siddons! for the fears of the parent,
lest she should be separated from her children, or these from each
other, were anxious and watchful beyond all that imagination could
paint, or the most vivid fancy portray. When any one approached their
little group, or chanced to look towards them with the attentive eye of
a purchaser, the children, in deep sobs, crouched nearer together, and
the tearful mother, in agonizing impulse, instantly fell down before the
spectator, bowed herself to the earth, and kissed his feet; then,
alternately clinging to his legs, and pressing her children to her
bosom, she fixed herself upon her knees, clasped her hands together,
and, in anguish, cast up a look of humble petition, which might have
found its way to the heart of a Caligula! Thus, in Nature’s truest
language, did the afflicted parent urge her strongest appeal to his
compassion, while she implored the purchaser, in dealing out to her the
hard lot of slavery, to spare her the additional pang of being torn from
her children—to forbear exposing her to the accumulated wretchedness
which would arise from forcing those asunder, whom the all-wise Disposer
of events had bound together by the most sacred ties of nature and
affection.

I mentioned in my former letter, when speaking of the phenomenon I had
seen, in the person of a twisted and broken mulatto at Garden-Eden, that
he was the property of Mr. Cuming, our very hospitable neighbour at the
plantation Kitty, near to Fort William Frederic; where, I may now tell
you that, since my return from “the falls,” I have had an opportunity of
seeing two other singular aberrations from the common characteristics of
our species, in the persons of a _white negro_, and a _piebald negress_.
These are very uncommon objects, more particularly the latter, and it is
remarkable that the three most striking examples of natural curiosity in
the colony, or perhaps in the West Indies, should happen all to be the
property of the same individual.

The _white negro_, as he is denominated, is a boy about twelve years of
age, who was born on board a ship, on the passage from Guinea, of
perfectly white skin, although both his father and mother were jet
black. He is even _whiter_, but I know not if I should say _fairer_,
than Europeans, for it is a dull chalk-white, without the agreeable
relief of the fine blue veins, and ruddy tints of an extra-tropical, or
more especially of a British skin. In form and feature he strictly
resembles other negroes, having the head and face long, with the hair
short and curling like wool, the mouth large, with thick lips, and the
nose broad and flat. His eyes are blue, the eyebrows and eyelashes
white, as is likewise the hair, which from being slightly tinged with
yellow, assumes, in a small degree, that particular hue, which is, more
commonly than correctly, termed red. On looking at a strong light, his
eyes are affected with a twinkling motion, such as is observed in the
Albinos or Nyctalops; and from the axes of the eyes not accurately
converging, a slight degree of squinting is perceptible. It would seem
therefore that it is a variation which stands much in the same relation
with respect to the negroes, as the Nyctalops with respect to ourselves.
His skin being more than usually irritable, is highly susceptible of
injury; it rises quickly into blisters, if he be exposed to the open
rays of the sun.

The case of the woman is even more singular than that of the boy; her
peculiarity being the effect of an extraordinary change, and not of
original conformation. She is about thirty years of age, and, until the
last six or seven years, was of completely sable skin, differing in no
respect from other negroes; nor do her form or features now offer any
thing remarkable, but, from the profoundest black, her surface is
growing perfectly white. She is of good figure, has been always regarded
as having a strong and healthy constitution, and, for many years, has
been employed as a washerwoman in Mr. Cuming’s family.

No probable cause is known, or even suggested, for the change, but about
five or six years ago, some white spots appeared upon her extremities,
and, from that time, she has been gradually losing the natural blackness
of her surface.

This uncommon change commenced in the parts most remote from the great
organ of circulation, and is slowly, though regularly, proceeding
towards the parts nearer to the heart. The feet, hands, legs, and arms,
have already lost their sable hue, and are even whiter than those of an
European. Her nose and ears are also white, and some patches are
spreading upon the face, neck, and bosom; but her body yet remains
entirely black; and although this extraordinary conversion seems to be
progressively advancing, if it proceed as slowly as it has hitherto
done, it may be still several years before the whole of the dark
colouring be removed. Her hair and eyes retain their original blackness,
and have not yet any appearance of participating in the change.

It is remarkable that the cuticle of the parts which have grown white,
like the pale skin of the boy just mentioned, is very subject to rise
into blisters upon being exposed to the sun, while no such effect is
produced upon the parts which continue dark.

The woman is still in good health, and appears to be quite free from
disease; as she was, at the time this peculiar change began; but she is
extremely low and dejected concerning this event, which she regards as
the severest evil that could have befallen her. She has a great dislike
to be seen, or to have questions asked her, more particularly by
strangers, When sent for, that I might look at her, she came to me with
reluctance, exhibited strong marks of agitation while she remained, and
went away in tears. She is the wife of one of Mr. Cuming’s slaves, and
has had several children, who differ in no respect from the offspring of
other negroes.




                              LETTER XXX.


                                               Demarara, April 19, 1797.

You will not be surprised to hear that, although we are removed from the
busy metropolis of England, and all the gay scenes and adventures
indicated in the _jeux d’esprit_, _bon mots_, _doubles entendres_, and
the many idly amusing histories which daily swell the columns of the
newspapers, we are not without our little cabals and intrigues, and
anecdotes, and _particular heads_ of news, which, in the absence of more
weighty occurrences, often acquire a degree of importance they do not
merit, and become the subjects of general conversation and remark. At
present the prevailing topic is not devoid of interest. It relates to a
mulatto woman called Princess Changuion, regarding whom a degree of
concern has been excited, in consequence of a proclamation which has
lately appeared in the Essequibo Gazette, and which has called forth a
sense of compassion, and of party feeling in her behalf.

She is a free mulatto, and was lately the favored dulcinea of a person
high in office: circumstances having rendered her name the general theme
of the day, her crimes, her merits, and her sufferings are warmly
canvassed in every society, and even those who never saw, nor heard of
her before, would appear, from their confident remarks, to be intimately
acquainted with every particular of her history and conduct. It has been
thought that in consequence of having committed an offence, which
certainly would not appear to be of the first magnitude, the arm of
power has been too severely extended towards her; and from the sentence
seeming to imply prejudice, it is even hinted that private, or party
pique, has had its influence in deciding the quota of punishment:
indeed, if loud whisper may be credited, her persecutors have been
exasperated against her, in proportion as others have betrayed towards
her situation feelings of compassion.

As the tale is told, some dispute had arisen between a Dutch dame, and
this yellow _princess_, in which the white lady alleged an unjust
accusation against the mulatto, and otherwise so ill treated her as to
provoke her to hold up her hand in a menacing manner; for which most
heinous offence, the poor Changuion has been subjected to an arbitrary
confinement, and sentenced to be further punished with a severe
flogging—burning in the forehead—the loss of an ear—and banishment! This
you will readily perceive, was dealing out, to a person in freedom, the
cruel treatment practised upon slaves, and for no better reason, than
because nature had given a yellow tint to her skin. The undue severity
used towards her has had the effect of animating the benevolent
exertions of those who regard her as a victim of prejudice, and it being
known that in some countries not only law and justice, but even despotic
authority might be softened by gold, due inquiries were made, and it was
understood that a _thousand guilders_, properly employed, might
mitigate, if not efface the decree. But, from the influence of a power
opposed to the party, who thus interested themselves in the cause of
humanity, the chastisement was ordered to be inflicted, at the very
moment when the thousand guilders were expected to be taken as the price
of her release. Still it happened that the iron arm of despotism was
disappointed of its blow; for, in the course of the night, preceding the
morning when this unhappy female was to have been led out to punishment,
she contrived to effect her escape from confinement; and it is
whispered, in a certain circle, that she will probably find a place of
concealment, until she can meet with an opportunity of executing the
latter part of her sentence by _self_-banishment.

You will be pleased to know that the climate upon this coast has lately
become quite salubrious, and that our sick list has rapidly decreased,
in consequence of great numbers of patients being discharged, and but
few admitted. I may also remark that we have found the month of March
the most pleasant, as well as the most healthy season of the year: not
only has the weather been drier, the breeze stronger, and the air
cooler, but we have been less subject to prickly heat, and less annoyed
with musquitoes. Happily the wings of these tormenting insects have not
been able to support their light bodies against the increased strength
of the breeze. The roads have likewise been dry, and peculiarly pleasant
for travelling, which in these colonies is no trifling consideration;
for, in consequence of their being low, and flat, and muddy, only a
moderate fall of rain leaves the highways deep in wet, and almost
impassable.

Although the month of March has been the driest of all the twelve, some
parts of October, November, and February were likewise very fine, and
the muddy roads were then, also, dry and smooth.

After long waiting, I may at last announce to you that a ship is come
in, direct from England; by which we are furnished with an ample supply
of hospital dresses, bedding, and other stores, for the accommodation of
the sick. The arrival of these things is rather late, it must be
confessed; but it will afford me the satisfaction of leaving the
department well provided, and free from the many inconveniences, to
which it has been, necessarily, exposed while under my direction.

A copy has also reached my hand of the new regulations, for improving
the situation of regimental surgeons, by doing away their
medicine-money, and other perquisites, and consolidating their pay into
a regular and specific sum: likewise for establishing their rank, and
putting them upon a footing with military officers, in respect to
quarters and field-allowances. This is an important and well-advised
arrangement, and does honor to its projector. Indeed it is matter of
surprise that the system of granting medicine-money, and other
perquisites, should have been so long continued, since it not only
offered an inadequate reward, but held out encouragement to a neglect of
duty, by lessening the emoluments of the surgeon, in proportion as he
supplied the requisite means to the sick.

But I am sorry to remark, that the new regulation, excellent as it is,
from being limited to regimental surgeons, stops short of its effect. To
have rendered it complete in its operation, it should have extended
further, and have defined the rank of the different officers of the
hospital staff: thus it might have become a general, and standard rule
for the whole medical body; and have prevented many cavillings, and
unpleasant occurrences on service; while it would have given the
department the respectability that is due to it, and have fixed its
importance among military men. As it now stands, it is manifestly
defective, from giving to a regimental surgeon a degree of rank, of
which it leaves him again divested, upon his receiving promotion to the
staff. The regulation might also have gone still further, with
additional benefit, and have fixed the title as well as the rank of the
various medical appointments, for, at present, without a due regard to
the military system, the department is branching out into multiplied
divisions, devoid of the appropriate distinctions of rank and duty.

It would perhaps be a task, which might puzzle the whole war-office,
with the army medical board included, to discriminate between the
endless ramifications and subdivisions which are made to display
themselves in the army medical code; more especially with respect to the
higher appointments, under all the various degrees of physicians and
surgeons, and deputies and assistants, and _heads_ and _principals_—such
as, “physician-general, surgeon-general, inspector-general of regimental
hospitals, inspector-general of hospitals, deputy inspector-general of
hospitals, assistant inspector-general of hospitals, director of
hospitals, inspector of hospitals, assistant inspector of hospitals,
field inspector of hospitals, head of hospitals, principal medical
officer of hospitals[3], &c. &c. &c.”

By a late arrival from head-quarters, we learn that the commander in
chief has sailed, with the expedition recently fitted out at Martinique,
and is supposed to be bound to Porto Rico. We hope soon to ascertain its
destination, by receiving happy tidings of its issue.




                              LETTER XXXI.


                                                     Demarara, April 23.

On this day last year my foot first pressed the soil of South America;
and when I take a retrospect of all that has passed; review the trials
which I have had to sustain; and reflect what numbers have perished
around me, I feel highly sensible how much I have cause of thankfulness,
in being still blessed with health and strength, to perform the various
duties of my appointment.

With much anxiety I look to St. Domingo, and it would be a peculiar
satisfaction to me, could I know that my comrades upon that station have
arrived as happily at the end of the first year as myself: but, from
reports of the dreadful fatality in that quarter, I tremble for the fate
of my friends; and, being now upon the eve of joining them, the idea
that they may have fallen among the many victims of that inhospitable
region, weighs upon my heart in accumulated heaviness.

The date of my letter also reminds me, that at this time, last year, the
wet season was setting in upon the coast of Guiana. This year, we had a
considerable fall of rain, about the beginning of the present month,
from which many imagined it to be commencing; but the showers proved to
be only those of a lunar period, and the weather has since been dry and
pleasant.

The rainy season usually begins somewhat earlier in these colonies, than
in the islands: in the dry months, also, this coast is more frequently
refreshed with showers. These mostly occur about the periods of
spring-tides, and are not wholly suspended even in the arid month of
March: so that instead of suffering from long-continued drought, no part
of the year can be considered as a dry season, otherwise than
comparatively with those months which are almost incessantly wet.

With only the same proportion of rain, the coast of Guiana, from the
flatness of the country, and the nature of the soil, will appear to be
less dry, than the islands, where the land is more hilly and irregular,
and so disposed as to favor either the percolation, or the passing off
of the water. Here we have one wide and level surface of clay, and the
water that falls lies upon the roads, and the fields, until the thirsty
atmosphere drinks it all up again; hence the wet, from every shower,
continues to be visible long after it has reached the ground, or it
remains to be increased by new torrents.

From this circumstance, strangers arriving here from Europe, or the
islands, particularly if they should expect a total absence of showers
during the dry months, might be led to imagine that, in these colonies,
there is only one continued wet season throughout the year.

Of late I have been honored with visits from several of the medical
gentlemen of the colony, with a view of ascertaining the effect of the
remedies used in the military hospitals, and particularly of mercury, in
the yellow fever.

Among them was Dr. E. from whose conversation and remarks I derived
peculiar gratification. He is a man of talents and observation, and has
profited of an extensive experience. In speaking of the yellow fever, he
said that the medical men, who reside in the interior of the islands and
settlements of the West Indies, have scarcely a better opportunity of
knowing the real character of that disease, than those “who practise
medicine in the country villages of England.” He considers those only to
be well acquainted with this dreadful malady, who have the opportunity
of seeing it among Europeans, or Americans newly arrived within the
tropics. It had been his lot to witness it but too frequently, from
being employed among the sailors of the trading vessels upon the river;
and it appeared that he had observed with accuracy, and made himself
well acquainted with the nature of the disease.

The doctor’s experience had taught him to place very little reliance
upon bark, mercury, or any of the remedies commonly employed; but he
thought that he had witnessed the most decided benefit from the Indian
method of using hot and cold bathing; and he stated, that, where the hot
bath could not be conveniently provided, he had found equal advantage
from ordering the head and neck to lie washed with hot water, and
immediately afterwards dashing three or four buckets of cold water upon
the patient. “The very sudden relief obtained from this remedy,” added
the doctor, “is often equally astonishing and effectual.”

I have lately taken a ride to make some visits at Mahaica, and at
various estates upon the coast; and, in the course of my excursion, I
waited upon Mr. Mackenzie, one of my fellow-travellers upon our late
expedition up the river; at whose residence I had the high gratification
of exploring a rich garden of herbs, plants, flowers, and fruits.

It may surprise you to know that in a country where vegetation is so
rapid, and so much under control, as upon this prolific coast, a
well-cultivated garden should be so extremely rare, as to appear quite a
novelty: but it too commonly happens that those who court the smiles of
fortune, by planting the tropical fields, attend only to the cultivation
of sugar, coffee, and cotton, which are often seen growing up to the
very doorway, or almost creeping in at the windows of the dwelling, not
the smallest spot being reserved for garden, pleasure-ground, or
orchard. But the intelligent and accomplished proprietor of Lusignan has
a mind superior to the little penuriousness which, neglecting the
agreeable and ornamental, devotes only to the lucrative, and sacrifices
the common comforts of life to the sole purpose of amassing a few
additional dollars. Here the cotton is kept at a proper distance from
the house, and the immediate environs are laid out in gardens, or
enriched with fruits, shrubs, and other useful, or decorative trees.
Around the dwelling luxuriate, in a generous soil, the fruitful
bread-tree, the cucumber-tree, the cocoa-nut, the stately
mountain-cabbage, the grenadillo, the water-lemon, grapes of different
species, mangos, figs, cherries, almonds, star-apples, pines, and a
multitude of other fruits; together with a great variety of the more
rare, and beautiful plants and flowers of these regions.

All the advantages of an European garden it was here proved may be
equalled, or far exceeded in this bountiful soil, which so rapidly, and
abundantly returns the labour bestowed upon it. A long walk, finely
shaded with grenadillos, the fruit of which hung in profusion over our
heads, had been planted only a few months before. The young shoots of
figtrees, whose parent branches are cut away every year, were quite
loaded with fruit, and the grapes hung, in heavy clusters, from single
stems; all the other parts of the vines being pruned away. Indeed, so
prolific are the plants, and so luxuriant their growth, that to ensure
an abundant produce it seems only necessary to commit seeds and shoots
to the earth, and to cut out, from time to time, the greater part of the
wood of the trees.

Amidst the flowers I observed many that were of far more pleasant odour
than those I had commonly met with in this country, and which had led me
to believe that nature had very sparingly scattered her perfumes, among
the plants of this coast: if, therefore, I had not chanced to see the
garden I am speaking of, I might have left the colonies, impressed with
an idea that the flowers of Guiana were wholly devoid of that delicious
fragrance, for which those of Europe are so highly esteemed.




                             LETTER XXXII.


                                                        Demarara, April.

The commandant having required me to wait the reply of the commander in
chief, to a letter upon the subject of our recall from this station, I
have availed myself of the interval, to make out a complete set of the
returns and accounts of the whole hospital department, from the date of
our arrival upon this coast; and having toiled at official papers for
several weeks, with all the application of an office clerk, I feel that
I cannot better devote my remaining leisure, than in transcribing for
your eye a few notes which I have collected, from time to time, upon the
general subject of these colonies.

To an intelligent and inquiring mind, like yours, every thing that
concerns mankind, and the countries we inhabit, must be strongly
interesting: the general appearance of the territory—the salubrity of
the air—the common productions, and the returns of produce—the price of
provisions—the wages of labour—the laws and form of government—the
distribution of property, and the administration of justice, cannot fail
to be questions of importance; and hence, although I have not had an
opportunity of acquiring minute or extensive information upon these
subjects, I offer no apology for laying before you the few observations
which I have been able to make, assured that you will not deem them
wholly devoid of interest.

An unfavorable prejudice has been imbibed respecting the climate upon
this coast; and a general opinion prevails, as well in the West India
islands as in Europe, that these settlements are very unhealthy: but,
however the fact may stand, upon a comparison with the genial climate of
a portion of Europe, it is certainly incorrect with respect to the
neighbouring islands. Probably it is a prejudice that dates its origin
from the earliest cultivation of the colonies; being formed either from
a superficial view of the peculiar surface of the land; or in
consequence of sickness having prevailed among the settlers, at the time
of first clearing the soil.

Low and flat countries are usually unpropitious to the health of man;
but the insalubrity does not result as a necessary consequence of this
form of the land: other circumstances are required: for, unless these
conspire, or, having conspired, if they be removed, the fact no longer
exists. A level country badly cleared, not well drained, and only
partially improved, will, no doubt, be unhealthy: but a district so well
cultivated as Demarara, will not be sickly, only because it is low. A
broken or mountainous territory may preserve its salubrity in great
measure from its form, or the particular exposure of its irregular
surface: but a flat soil ever demands the aid of industry; and can only
be made healthy by unceasing toil: and, herein, is afforded a beautiful
and striking example of the all-providing care of Nature: she has made
labour necessary to the well-being of man; and she causes the earth to
bestow health as the consequence of his toil; but if he neglect the
salutary exertions required, she compels the very fields, not only to
reproach his indolence, but to punish him with sickness. She has gone
even further; for, these fields which, bereft of his health-inspiring
toil, will destroy him, she has particularly empowered to reward him
with plenty and riches, if he deny them not the attentions which she
dictates for the preservation of his health.

You will have collected some knowledge of the general appearance, and
the state of cultivation of this coast, from the desultory remarks I
have already sent you; but as I find a few words upon these subjects,
among my general notes, I shall transcribe them, with the others, and
you may read them, or not, as suits your leisure. I have told you that
on approaching these colonies from the sea, the land is not visible,
until you come very near to the shore. The tops of trees only are seen;
which appear to be growing out of the ocean. Before the coast was
brought into a state of culture, the forest reached nearly to the verge
of the water, and from the land being low, it was frequently overflowed
by the tides. Now, there is a cultivated territory, a mile and a half in
depth, between the ocean and the forest; but this is so entirely flat,
as to escape the eye, and on sailing towards the coast, the trees still
look as if they were growing within the margin of the sea.

Perhaps none but the plodding industrious Hollander would have attempted
to clear such a country: where wood and water concealed every appearance
of the land, and seemed to bid defiance to all the powers of
cultivation. Nor indeed were the early labours of the first settlers
directed to this part of the coast. They sailed far up the rivers, and
established the settlements upon their more elevated banks, at a
distance remote from the sea; not venturing to devote their industry to
the immediate borders of the ocean, until they were prompted to it by
the enterprise of more adventurous planters from the British islands.

The whole of the territory now brought into cultivation upon the coast,
is _made_-land. It has been placed—I had almost said created, by the
hand of man; and is preserved to his use, only by constant toil.
Numerous ditches and canals are cut to drain the water from the common
surface; and the land that is planted, is merely the mud and clay thrown
out of these channels.

An estate, or plantation, usually consists of a long piece of flat land,
about a quarter of a mile in width, and a mile and half in depth,
running back from the sea to the woods. It is bordered by wide ditches,
traversed by numbers of others, and thus formed into many separate
divisions, somewhat resembling an assemblage of beds; such as are
usually made in our English gardens, for the planting of asparagus.

A deep bank of earth, called a dyke, is thrown up in front, to defend
the estate from the encroachments of the sea; and a similar bank is
raised at the back, to prevent it from being inundated by the waters,
which overspread the flat surface of the forest. The ditches unite by
frequent intersections, and form ready communications with the sea. It
is one of the regular duties of the estate, thoroughly to scour out
these trenches every year; when the mud that is removed, makes a coating
of manure, and serves to raise, while it enriches the soil; which from
cultivation, from the falling of heavy rains, and from the flowing of
the tides in the numerous channels around it, were it not for this
supply, would soon wear to a level, and be again a prey to the waters.

From a number of these estates lying contiguous to each other, the coast
is formed into an open, though narrow, territory; and the border of the
sea is seen spreading into one splendid cotton-field, a mile and half
deep, and of nearly seventy miles extent. The surface being quite level,
this immense tract of cultivated land opens at once to the eye, and the
scene is not less rich than novel. Perhaps a plain so spacious, a soil
so fertile, and a produce so abundant, cannot be met with in any other
country.

Like the earth in cultivation, that which forms the public roads is only
the mud and clay procured from the ditches which skirt them. They are of
course flat, like the rest of the territory, and running at the bottom,
or along the sides of the estates, they form straight lines, and right
angles, throughout the whole extent of the plantations, interrupted only
by the wooden bridges which cross the numerous ditches and canals.

In allotting the land, a certain width of it between each two estates,
is, with much wisdom, reserved to the settlement, in order to form what
are here termed colony-paths. These not only serve as common ways, from
the front to the back of every plantation, but in each of them is cut a
public canal, which runs from the sea, throughout the whole depth of the
cultivated land, to the forest. By this provision many useful purposes
are answered; general convenience is promoted; and each individual
planter is benefited.

The colony-path not only offers itself as a common road, from the sea to
the Bush, but preserves a free communication for any future settlers,
who may engage in the culture of land at the back of the present
estates; while the canal, by means of flood-gates, lets off to the
ocean, the water that lodges in the forest, and prevents it from
overflowing the cultivated fields; bringing at the same time, a supply
of fresh water, for the use of the negroes and the cattle; and affording
to the planters a ready means of conveying the produce of their estates
to the sea.

Although the general face of the colonies be such as to convey an
unfavorable impression, the peculiar mode of cultivation protects them
from the ills, which, upon a first view of the soil, might seem to be
threatened. From the frequent use of the hoe, in clearing the crops,
scarcely a weed is left to grow up and decay; from the numerous
channels, which intersect each other, the rain that falls is carried
off, without becoming stagnant; from the flowing of the tide, every
thing noxious, brought to the ditches, is speedily removed; and from an
annual scouring, the channels are kept peculiarly free from impurities:
hence, notwithstanding its flatness, the land which is brought into
cultivation is not suffered to grow swampy; no offensive accumulation is
formed; nor does the mud-impregnated water of the ditches remain to grow
putrid, and emit unhealthy vapours. The earth is always fresh; the
channels are free; and the waters frequently renewed; it consequently
follows that the evils, which commonly proceed from low and neglected
ground, are in a great measure prevented.

When I mentioned as one of the advantages of the public canals, that
they furnish a supply for the slaves and the cattle, I might have added,
that the paucity of good water is one of the greatest inconveniences
that is known in these colonies; for although the canals bring in plenty
that is fresh, it is so strongly impregnated with infused leaves, and
other vegetable matters, in consequence of coming from the forest, that
it is very unpleasant, both to the eye and the palate, and as the
negroes express it, “_no good for backra_,” although these poor beings
are, themselves, obliged to share it with the cattle.

The river water is brackish to the distance of many miles from the
coast: springs there are none; and what might be procured by wells could
not be used. Under these circumstances, the expedient of preserving the
offerings from the clouds naturally suggested itself; and accordingly,
tanks, or cisterns, have been constructed for this purpose at almost
every estate. Some families put the rain-water into large earthen jars,
in which, with much care, it is kept good, during the whole period of
the dry season. Those who are not possessed of either jars, or cisterns,
are obliged to content themselves with the strongly macerated infusion
of the forests, called “bush-water;” or to send parties many miles, with
boats and casks, to obtain fresh water from a remote part of the river,
or from some of its tributary streams.

From the nature of the land, the crops upon this coast are very
abundant, and are far more regularly productive, than in any others of
our settlements in the West Indies. These colonies likewise possess the
great advantage of being free from hurricanes and earthquakes, and from
that mischievous insect, the borer, which in the islands so often
destroys the canes. They are also exempt from great droughts, which are
so frequently injurious to the islands, and, in consequence of being
open to the breeze, they are less liable to frequent and sudden changes
of temperature: neither hills, nor rocks, nor woods offer any impediment
to the trade winds, which come to them from the ocean, and are scarcely
ever absent throughout the whole annual circle.

The year is commonly divided into two wet and two dry seasons. The long
wet season begins in April, declines in August, and ceases in September.
The roads are then dry, and the weather fine until the middle of
November; when the short wet season sets in, and continues till January.
From the middle of that month until the latter end of April, the weather
is dry, the atmosphere clear and pure, and the climate genial. The roads
are then good, the breeze is powerful and steady, the air comparatively
cool, and the temperature subject to little variation.

In these colonies laws are made, and acts passed by the governor and
council; the governor having two votes.

The members of council are chosen by keizers, or electors; these being
appointed by the inhabitants; each inhabitant, possessed of property, to
the amount of six hundred guilders per annum, being entitled to a vote.

To qualify a person for being elected a member of council, it is
requisite that he be a freeholder, and a protestant: that he shall have
resided three years in the colony; and that he understand the Dutch
language.

The council framing laws, is called a court of policy: this court is of
a mixed form, resembling a combination of the house of assembly, and the
governor and council of the British colonies.

The court of justice, like the legislative and executive, is composed of
the governor, and of counsellors elected by the keizers. This court
takes cognizance of all civil and criminal causes, and admits of no
appeal, except to the sovereign.

A commissary court is established for the adjustment of petty offences,
and for the decision of all questions of property below the value of 600
guilders. This court consists of two members of the court of justice,
who are appointed in rotation, the governor nominally presiding. The
fiscal is the active officer of this court. It is his duty to announce,
or impose the fines; but he has no power to levy them. If they be
resisted, he serves the parties with a citation, and they appeal to the
commissary court.

The fiscal is the great law officer, and may be considered as the
attorney and solicitor general of the colony. His powers and privileges
are very considerable, and his influence, of course, extensive.

The country is divided into a certain number of districts, with a
burgher captain appointed to each, on whom devolves the more immediate
execution of the public regulations, whether made for the particular
convenience of the respective districts, or for the common benefit of
the colony at large.

It is a regulation—or law of the colony, that each planter shall keep in
repair that portion of the public road, together with its bridges, which
crosses or passes at the end of his own estate. But instead of
overseers, or surveyors of the road being appointed, it is made the duty
of the fiscal, to travel throughout the colony, twice in every year, for
the express purpose of inspecting the roads and bridges, and imposing
fines upon the owners of such as are not found to be in good repair.

In these tours of inspection the law requires that he shall be
accompanied by a burgher officer, and a clerk from the government
secretary’s office; the former to approve, the latter to witness such
approval, and to note the fines imposed. This control seems to be highly
necessary, as certain proportions of these fines become the perquisite
of the fiscal, and serve to enrich his own purse.

The planters, upon receiving notice of the fines, thus levied, have the
privilege of resisting the payment of them: in which case the fiscal
refers the question to the commissary court, and himself pleads the
cause, as the principal law officer of the colony. But it frequently
happens, that by offering a third, or a half of the fine, the affair is
compromised—the fiscal silenced—his pocket satisfied; and all further
appeal to the court of justice prevented.

The regulation has, however, the effect of keeping the public roads in
very excellent repair; for, knowing how very improbable it is, that the
least defect can escape the penetrating and interested eye of the
fiscal, each planter is particularly attentive to the highways and the
bridges[4].

All grants of land, in these colonies, are made from the States General
of the United Provinces; and they commonly consist of lots, either of
250, or 500 acres, laid out in the abovementioned regular form, which is
favored by the situation, and flatness of the land. In front, towards
the sea, each estate is about 1200 Dutch[5] feet in width; and in
length, back from the sea into the forest, or Bush, 9000 feet. In
Berbische many of the grants are 1800 feet wide, and 12,000 feet deep.
On granting the land it is stipulated that the plantation shall be
advanced to a certain state of cultivation by a given period, under the
penalty of being forfeited at the expiration of that term, if not
improved to the extent specified; and by way of encouragement to the
planter, a second depth, further into the forest, of equal extent, and
immediately at the back of the other, is usually granted to the person
who holds the first depth from the sea, so soon as it shall be
certified, by the two neighbouring planters, that two-thirds of the
first grant are brought into good cultivation, and that the new grant
will not be in anywise injurious to them. Some gentlemen are now in
possession of these double plantations of 18,000 feet; but, for the most
part, only the single estates of 9000 feet are yet made obedient to the
hoe.

Thus you will perceive, that these rich colonies are merely a narrow
strip of land, upon the margin of the Atlantic Ocean, bounded by a deep
forest, which extends across the whole continent to the Pacific Ocean.

Until within the last twelve or fifteen years, scarcely any plantations
were formed upon the coast. It is since this period that English
enterprise has taught the plodding Hollander that he had overlooked his
best interests, in not bestowing his industry upon the immediate verge
of the ocean; and the seashore already exhibits one rich and fertile
field, throughout nearly the whole extent, from the river Demarara to
the river Berbische.

It is probable that, in the course of a few years, the borders of the
rivers will be totally abandoned, and, instead of being enriched with
coffee and sugar, will be left to relapse into their primeval state. In
such event a very short time would efface every mark of human industry,
and it would be difficult to discover that the arm of man had ever
extended thither; for so rapid is the progress of vegetation, that the
land is only held subservient to useful purposes by the unremitted toil
of slaves, which being once withdrawn, it would speedily revert to its
original wildness, and again become a part of one vast forest.

The colony of Berbische was the first settled; but that of Demarara has
proceeded with far the most rapid improvement. The estates now in
cultivation upon the sea-coast, from the Demarara river to the boundary
of the colony of Berbische, are one hundred and sixteen; all producing
cotton, except the “Kitty” belonging to Mr. T. Cuming, which has been
recently planted with sugar[6]. This part of the colony is divided into
four districts, the burgher captains, presiding over which, are all
British planters, viz. Mr. Lochland Cuming, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Telfer, and
Mr. Sutherland.

It is scarcely necessary to remark that coffee, cotton, and sugar are
the great, and almost only commercial productions of the colony. The
average produce of the 80 best cotton estates, is calculated at from
50,000 lb. to 60,000 lb. weight, each, of cotton per annum. In the
cultivation of this plant _one prime negro_ is considered as sufficient
stock for _two acres_ of land. The average number of cotton bushes,
planted upon an acre, is six hundred. Each bush is calculated to produce
eight ounces of cotton; and the average price of the article, sold in
the colony, is estimated at fifteen stivers per pound.

The requisite proportion of stock, for an estate cultivated with coffee,
is _two negroes_ to _three acres_ of land. The number of coffee bushes
usually planted is four hundred and fifty per acre. Each bush is
calculated to produce 1½ lb. of coffee; and the average price, when sold
in the colony, is from seven to eight stivers per pound.

The cultivation of sugar, is the most expensive, and requires
considerably the greatest proportion of stock, _one prime negro_ being
necessary to _every acre_ of land. The average return of an estate,
planted with sugar, is 50_l._ sterling per acre, being 2000 lb. weight
of sugar at four-pence per pound, and rum in proportion.

The domestic fowls and animals seen in these colonies are the same as
those of Europe; but we find that the Moscovy duck, and the Guinea fowl
are much more commonly used than in England. Very few of the birds, or
beasts of the surrounding woods, have yet been domesticated, and these,
not for the purpose of utility, but amusement: the monkey and parrot
tribes being almost the only species seen about the houses. The horse,
the sheep, the dog, and the other animals which are usually associated
with the family circle, and made subservient to man, are not the native
inhabitants of these forests; but, possibly, there may be others which
might be brought into social habits, and made to contribute to our
wants. Domestic birds it is known there are; for we occasionally see, in
that state, the native ducks of the rivers, and what is here called the
powys, or turkey of the woods, which is a more stately bird, and nearly
as large as the common turkey of Europe.

With respect to the natural history of the country, a wider field seems
to be opened in botany and zoology, than in mineralogy; for while the
animal and vegetable worlds are abundantly stored, scarcely a stone or a
pebble can be found in any part of the colonies yet cultivated. I lament
exceedingly that my occupations will not allow me more time to devote to
these subjects; and, on this ground, I have particularly to regret being
separated from my baggage, having left on board the Lord Sheffield two
boxes of books, the loss of which I feel very severely.

Delightful as the study is, perhaps no extensive progress can be
expected to be made in the different branches of the natural history of
the country, so long as it shall continue to be visited only from views
of pecuniary gain. Even the enthusiasm which attaches to new
discoveries, can induce but few to toil in such a climate, in the mere
pursuits of science; and, accordingly, we see that it is the object of
those, who do hazard their persons, to devote themselves to the means of
acquiring a competent fortune, to enable them to retire, as speedily as
possible, to enjoy the fruits of it in a more temperate atmosphere.

It is not only with excessive heat and disease that those who visit
these regions have to contend! The extreme annoyance, from insects and
reptiles is still more severe, to many persons, than the exhausting
warmth of the climate. In truth I may say it is so to myself; for the
general buzzing, the biting, stinging, creeping, and crawling of these
tormenting objects, distress me far more than the temperature, or any
apprehension of disease. We are bitten, stung, or overrun by day and by
night, and exposed to incessant pain and discomfort, unless constantly
upon the watch, or carefully protected by some defensive covering; being
perpetually beset with myriads of flies, ants, musquitoes, cockroaches,
lizards, Jack Spaniards[7], fireflies, centipedes, &c. &c.; which, in
addition to their bites and stings, fly in our faces, crawl about our
persons, and make an intolerable buzzing in our ears. In an evening, and
particularly after rain, the confused noise of these humming hosts is
peculiarly disagreeable. It conveys the idea of breathing in an
atmosphere of sounds, or amidst a great and animated hive, where every
created insect joins in full chorus—the enormous frog of the country
croaking the bass, in a voice which resembles the loud bellowings of an
ox.

From the great fertility of the soil; from the uninterrupted regularity
of the crops, and their abundant produce; and from the immense extent of
territory capable of being brought into cultivation, these colonies may
be regarded as the most valuable capture which has been made during the
war, and perhaps that which it might be most to the advantage of England
to preserve, to herself, upon the return of peace.

The number of slaves, at this period, in the united colony of Essequibo
and Demarara, is about fifty-five thousand[8]. The greatest number
possessed by an individual is nearly 2000. These are the property of
Mynheer Boode, a planter living upon the western coast of the Demarara
river; a man of immense fortune, who is said to have been originally a
drum-boy, in the Dutch service, and to have come to this colony from
Surinam, where he had arrived with the troops from Holland. Here, by a
steady perseverance in successful industry, he has been enabled to
acquire a fortune, which is represented as princely indeed; it being
said to amount to nearly 50,000_l._ sterling, per annum.

Of the wages of daily labour it is difficult to speak, with any degree
of accuracy, in a country where the work is done by slaves. I have
already mentioned an instance of the exorbiant price of wages among the
labouring class of carpenters, and this may serve as a specimen of the
rate of hire given to others. The lower ranks of white people are mostly
mechanics, or artisans, and these obtain high and extravagant wages in
all parts of the West Indies. White labouring peasants, or husbandmen,
are here unknown. The mulattoes, like wise, are for the most part bred
to some handicraft employment, and very few of them are seen to toil
their daily round in the field: the cultivating of the land, therefore,
and all the menial, and lower degrees of labour, are performed by the
negro slaves, who are themselves, equally with the implements of their
toil, the sole and disposable property of their masters; wherefore, in
order to ascertain the wages of labour, it would be necessary to
calculate the cost of the slave, his provisions, and clothing, the price
of the tools he uses, the risk of sickness, and of casualties, and the
interest of money; and thence to draw the ratio of expenditure, or the
sum invested to procure his daily toil.

But it sometimes happens that persons buy slaves, who have neither land
for them to cultivate, nor any other means of employing them: they let
them out therefore to hire, by the month or the year. Some even purchase
negroes expressly for this purpose; and lay the foundation of their
fortunes by selling the toil of Africans, who are thus made to sweat
drops of gold for their owners, under the lash of other masters. The
profit obtained from the labour of a slave, who costs about eighty
pounds, is usually from twenty to twenty-two guineas per annum, all
expense of food, and of medicines when sick, being defrayed, throughout
the term for which he is engaged, by the person who hires him.

Upon making minute inquiry I understand that the hire of a negro may be
fairly estimated at about two guilders for a single day; if engaged for
several weeks, at one guilder per day; and when hired for a longer
period, it may be rated at about 250, or nearly 300 guilders per annum.

The compensation of professional labour bears a due proportion to the
high profits acquired by the merchants and planters. From the population
being very limited, and the inhabitants not yet crowded into towns, the
medical practitioners are seldom rewarded with regular fees for their
attendance; but are commonly allowed an annual salary for their
services, thus establishing a kind of fixed income, which depends upon
the number of estates under their inspection, and not upon the number of
sick, whom they may have to visit.

                           PRICE OF PROVISIONS
                       IN THE COLONY OF DEMARARA.


                            Dollars.    Bits.               £. _s._ _d._

 Bread (rarely to be
   purchased)                               1 _per lib._ or  0    0    5

 Pork                                      2½ _do._          0    1   0½

 Beef or mutton (seldom to
   be procured)                        3 or 4 _do._          0    1    6

 Milk (worse than in
   London)                                  1 _per pint_     0    0    5

 Cheese (brought from
   England)                                 4 _per lib._     0    1    8

 Salt butter                                4 _do._          0    1    8

 A turkey                     5 or 6                         1    5    0

 A duck                                    12                0    5    0

 A fowl                            1                         0    4    8

 Ham (brought from England)                 4 _per lib._     0    1    8

 Loaf-sugar (coarse)                        6 _do._          0    2    6

 Tea (green)                      4½          _do._          1    1    0

 Apples (brought from
   America)                                 4 _per doz._     0    1    8

 Onions (_do._)                             1 _do._          0    0    5

 Small tarts (such as are
   sold in England for a
   penny)                                   1 _each_         0    0    5

 Madeira wine                      1          _per bottle_   0    4    8

 Claret                            1          _do._          0    4    8

 Porter                                     6 _do._          0    2    6


                       PRODUCTIONS OF THE COLONY.


                            Dollars.    Bits.

 Plantains                            1 or 1½ _per bunch_    0    0    5

 Yams                                       1 _per gal._     0    0    5

 Eddoes                                     2 _do._          0    0   10

 Sweet potatoes                             1 _do._          0    0    5

 Oranges (brought to the
   door)                                    1 _per doz._     0    0    5

 Pines            _do._                     2 _for three_    0    0   10

 Indian corn                                  _per 100
                                       3 or 4 heads_         0    1    6

 Grass (fresh cut, of which
   a horse will eat 5 or 6
   bundles in a day)                        1 _per bundle_   0    0    5

 Cotton                                     3 _per lib._     0    1    3

 Coffee                                    1½ _do._          0    0   7½

 Sugar (fresh made in the
   country)                                   _do._          0    0    4


                         ARTICLES OF COMMON USE.


                               Joes. Dollars. Bits.         £. _s._ _d._

 A coat (ready made, and of
   very common cloth)             2½          or             4   13    4

 A shirt (ready made and
   coarse)                                  6                1    8    0

 A hat                             1                         1   17    4

 A pair of boots (American,
   and of very bad leather)                 7                1   12    8

 A pair of shoes (very bad)                 3                0   14    0

 A saddle (plain)             3 or 4                         7    7    0

 A bridle (plain and neat)                 17                3   19    4

Cabinet wares, and household furniture are extravagantly dear. All
articles of iron, or polished steel soon become spoiled, in consequence
of the erosive property of the sea air; hence it is common to have the
hardware tinned or plated: even keys, knives, cork-screws, and the like,
whether left in the room, or worn in the pocket, are soon covered with
rust, and without constant care, are rendered useless.




                             LETTER XXXIII.


                                                     Demarara, May 1797.

The commandant received the reply of the commander in chief on the 25th
ult., and I am directed to take my departure from the coast of Guiana by
the earliest opportunity. This may, therefore, be the last letter I
shall address to you, from the continent of South America.

Anticipating these instructions I had prepared cases for my collection
of Indian specimens; which I have now packed up, and embarked on board
the ship Homer, for London, hoping some day to meet them again in the
neighbourhood of Bedford Square. Fortunately after long expectation, the
model of an Indian house, which the friendly Bercheych had promised to
procure me, from the inhabitants of the forest, arrived just in time to
be enclosed: as it is complete in furniture and utensils, I shall look
forward, with much pleasure, to the period, when I may have the
opportunity of explaining to you, in England, the appropriate uses of
all the little apparatus which you will find attached to it.

I am also indebted to the commandant, Col. Hislop, for the model of an
Indian house, brought to him by the Bucks, which you will likewise find
in the collection embarked on board the Homer.

It has happened, for some weeks past, that we have again been very
particularly indebted to the king, for our allowance of daily food.
Unable to procure fresh provisions in the colony, and none having been
imported, the hospital mess has been wholly fed with the salt rations
issued from his Majesty’s stores; and, no alternative remaining, we have
been compelled to satisfy ourselves with a diet of salt beef and
pease-soup, improved with only the occasional variety of pease-soup and
saltpork.

I should stand accused of neglecting our contract, were I to omit
telling you that, in a late provision-hunting excursion, our party met
two Dutch ladies upon the road, travelling, with great state, in a
chaise drawn by six naked slaves, instead of horses. This was a scene of
novelty, it being one of the toils of slavery which we had not before
chanced to witness; nor indeed had we heard that it was practised.

It is matter of much concern to me not to be able to improve the report
of our surgical patients, before I quit the hospitals, which have been
so long the objects of my anxious care, but, so far from this being the
case, it is deemed necessary to embark another body of these unfortunate
sufferers on board the ships now going to England.

Next to fever, ulcers have been the severest scourge of the troops, and
in both of these maladies we have noticed multitudes of instances, in
sad proof of the fatal influence of climate upon our patients: while an
European has been cut off in a few hours, by the yellow fever, a
colonist has experienced a slight attack of the bilious remittent, and a
negro had to support the simple paroxysm of an ague: or, while an
English soldier has lingered, and died, from only a slight scratch or
excoriation, the African, and the creole, have rapidly recovered from
the widest and most perilous ulcers.

If I state to you the result of twelve months experience, as it now
appears before me, in a return which I have prepared for the commander
in chief, it is not with a view of increasing your terrors, respecting
the fatality of this climate, but rather of counteracting, in your mind,
a prejudice which I have said prevails too extensively, regarding the
insalubrity of Demarara, and indeed of the whole coast of Guiana.

I observed before, that the commonly accepted opinion, that these
settlements were more unhealthy than the West India islands, seemed to
be incorrect; and, if I now remark that in the course of a year our loss
has amounted to nearly 350 men, the returns from even the most favored
of the islands, I have much reason to suspect, will sanction me in
considering the assertion as decidedly erroneous: for we are taught to
believe that few, if any, of the detachments of the very numerous army,
under the command of Sir Ralph Abercromby, have escaped with so little
loss, as the division serving in these colonies. In some of the islands
we know that the mortality has been frightfully greater: in few—perhaps
in none, has it been less. Yet, alas! it is, at best, but a melancholy
consolation, that we should find cause to rejoice in having lost only
one-fourth of our number!

In the course of last week, and particularly on the 26th and 27th of the
late month of April, we had many heavy showers of rain, accompanied with
much thunder and lightning, also with the loud croakings of hosts of
enormous frogs, and the distressful visitings of thick clouds of
musquitoes; all of which are regarded as strong indications of a
returning wet season. That the thunder and lightning have been less
frequent, the musquitoes fewer, the breeze stronger, and the loud
bellowings of the frogs less annoying, during the dry season, than they
had been during the wet weather that preceded it, is a fact, to which
the eyes and ears of all here can bear testimony: but how far these
circumstances recurring with the showers of a lunar period, may be
indicative of the returning invasion of the long wet season, I am not
able to pronounce with equal certainty. Probability might seem to favor
the opinion: yet the rains have again diminished, and the best observers
do not positively declare our pleasant dry season to be at an end;
therefore, as the wet season is commonly later in the islands, than upon
this coast, I do not altogether despair of reaching Martinique in time
to see that island during the continuance of fine weather.




                             LETTER XXXIV.


                                                        Demarara, May 5.

The ship, which is to convey our surgical invalids, not having sailed, I
gladly embrace the opportunity of offering you a word of kind adieu,
before I take my departure. To-morrow I am to embark from this coast,
together with such of the gentlemen of the St. Domingo hospital staff,
as have been spared from the grave. The vessel, in which we have taken
our passage, goes only to Martinique; how, and at what time we may
proceed from thence to St. Domingo will, in all probability, depend upon
circumstances, not within my control: but, for many reasons, I shall be
anxious to reach the island, whither we are destined, hoping, there, to
hail my comrades; to meet large packets of long-expected letters from my
friends in England; to regain my books and baggage; and to become
settled in a regular routine of professional duty. When you may hear of
me again, or from whence, is among the uncertainties with which I am
surrounded; but I shall continue to mark occurrences in the usual
manner, and if your correspondent shall not have been too faithfully
observant of your dictates, you may perhaps be troubled as heretofore:
but I am fearful lest I should draw more “_Notes_” than you may be
willing “_to accept_.”

                                                           Adieu! adieu!




                              LETTER XXXV.


                                         St. Pierre, Martinique, May 13.

Pursuant to the instructions which I had received, as mentioned in my
late letters from the coast of Guiana, I took the earliest opportunity
of proceeding from Demarara to head-quarters at Martinique, accompanied
by Messrs. Mackie, Jordan, and Fleming, the only surviving assistants of
the St. Domingo hospital department, who still continue with me, to
rejoin that staff.

We embarked on Saturday, May 6th, on board the Shark schooner, a small
vessel deeply laden with cotton, and fitted up with little attention to
the accommodation of passengers. Lieutenant D’Arcey of the 39th
regiment, was of our party, and we had another cabin passenger in the
person of an aged planter from Essequibo, named Jordine, who,
notwithstanding he had been many years absent from Europe, still
discovered, by his accent, that he had originally sailed from the north
of Tweed.

We made the passage in five days, and arrived here on the 11th instant.
Knowing the total discomfort which I never fail to experience when at
sea, I give you all the pleasant tidings you will expect, regarding the
voyage, when I tell you that ... it is ended!

Scarcely were we under sail before we found ourselves in trouble. Our
crew had dipped so deeply into the parting glass, that they were quite
incapable of working the vessel. No sooner, therefore, had we passed the
bar into heaving and restless water, than we were compelled to let go
the anchor, and lie pitching up and down at the mercy of the waves and
the tide, until the sailors became sobered by sleep, They left their
hammocks on the morning of the 7th, at an early hour, to get the vessel
under weigh. Nearly as soon as the sails were unfurled I was seized with
a violent sickness, and driven to my pillow, where I remained until the
evening of the 8th, when we passed the island of Trinidad, leaving it
several leagues to leeward.

On the 9th the breeze moderated as the sun retired, and the schooner
becoming more steady, I took my seat upon deck, and directed my eye
towards the island of Tobago, which was visible at about ten leagues
distance.

Early on the morning of the 10th we were called from our births to see
St. Vincent and St. Lucie, which were then distinctly in view, the
former to leeward, the latter directly a-head of the vessel.

St. Vincent appeared a high and rocky island, with its aspiring
mountains rounded into a kind of regular form; while St. Lucie, which
was nearer to us, presented a number of rude and craggy summits, formed
into towering pyramids of naked rocks and broken precipices. At the S.W.
point of this colony were seen the tops of two mountains particularly
elevated, and from their form called “the Sugar-loaves.” It being in our
course to sail close under them, their appearance was rendered very
grand and awful; they seemed to hang suspended from the edge of the
shore, as if threatening to fall upon the vessel, and crush it to atoms.

Scarcely had we proceeded beyond the “Sugar-loaves,” when the breeze
forsook us, and we were becalmed directly under the lee of the island,
near Souffrée, which was formerly the capital of the colony. This town
is situated at the border of the sea, a little beyond the mountainous
point, in a confined bay, surrounded by lofty hills. After lying a
considerable time, with the sails loose, the breeze was renewed, and
carried our schooner pleasantly along the coast, affording us a most
favorable opportunity of viewing the leeward part of St. Lucie: but as
we were proceeding smoothly under the shore, a vessel hove in sight,
directly a-head, making full sail towards us. Believing her to be a
privateer, we instantly tacked about, and stood for the harbour of
Souffrée; but she outsailed us, and we were in danger of being cut off
from the land before we could reach near enough to be within the
protection of the battery. Unfortunately, too, the breeze forsook us,
and just as we approached near to the harbour’s mouth we found ourselves
immoveable, with the additional mortification of seeing the ship that
was chasing us coming up with full sails. Every thing was put in the
best state for our defence, but at the moment when we expected the enemy
to commence the attack, we observed that his vessel was also rendered
motionless by the calm.

The breeze was soon renewed, when our sails speedily filled, and we were
carried into the bay. Upon seeing us take shelter in the harbour, our
pursuer sailed across its mouth, making a signal implying that she was
an English cruiser, and that we might proceed on our passage! But we
presently discovered that this false alarm would be the loss of an
entire day to us. We endeavoured to reconcile the delay by the
opportunity it afforded of obtaining a better view of the island, which
appeared to be a rugged mountainous waste. At the sides of some of the
hills, and in the narrow valleys, were a few scattered houses; but most
of them were abandoned, or in ruins. Only very small spots, at different
points, were in cultivation, the greater part of the fields, which had
formerly been obedient to the hoe and the spade, being neglected, and
exhibiting one wide scene of desolation; indeed, the whole of the coast
bore strong marks of having been a prey to the anarchy of the times, and
displayed a gloomy example of the effects of that levelling and
revolutionary engine—“egalité.”

On the approach of evening we came within view of the Pigeon Island,
Morne Fortuné, Morne Duchasseau, the Vigie, the Carenage, and all those
places which, about twelve months before, had been the great scene of
action. Here the cultivation was equally neglected, as in the other
parts which we had passed. From the sterile prospect which met the eye,
an unhappy impression was forced upon the mind in the recollection that
these barren rocks had so recently been purchased at a melancholy
expense of the blood and treasure of our country.

In the whole line of coast, from Souffrée to Morne Fortuné, we did not
observe a single battery, a circumstance which accounts for the temerity
of the commanders of French privateers, who frequently capture our
defenceless trading vessels close under the shores of the island.

Just before sunset Martinique was discovered about ten leagues a-head;
and we went to our births anticipating the delight of breakfasting at
St. Pierre the next day.

On the morning of the 11th the captain called us up, between five and
six o’clock, in order that we might not lose the very favorable
opportunity which then offered of viewing the island. On quitting our
hammocks we found that we were sailing along the coast, close in shore,
between Fort Royal and St. Pierre, standing toward the latter, and
commanding a fine prospect, including Fort Royal harbour and the
shipping. We were prevented by frequent returns of calm from getting in
at breakfast-time, but the disappointment was amply compensated by the
gratification of beholding distinct landscapes of several very pleasant
parts of the territory.

Martinique is mountainous, but less rude and craggy than St. Lucie. The
hills are of more regular form. They also exhibit more of vegetation and
improvement, and do not so often terminate in heavy masses of naked
rock. The valleys are also wider, and better cultivated. These two
islands, however much they may have been formerly allied in feature,
appear from the sea to be the direct reverse of each other: while
Martinique offers an animated scene of culture and richness, St. Lucie
may be said to sleep under an extended and almost general sterility.

We observed several small villages on the beach; and saw many fishermen
employed in their boats or repairing their nets at the edge of the
water. Canoes were passing in various directions; batteries appeared at
short distances from each other, manned with soldiers; and all about the
coast formed an active, busy scene.

The approach to the town of St. Pierre presented one of the finest
pictures that can be imagined. The breeze freshened as we came into the
bay, and we were detained beating on and off until noon, which gave us
the advantage of seeing the town, with the finely cultivated hills and
fields of its environs, from different points.

Imagine yourself at sea, near the coast of a most beautiful island, and
sailing into an expansive bay, with a handsome town directly before you,
encompassed with hills richly planted with coffee and cassada, fields
spread with luxuriant verdure, and valleys loaded with sugarcanes: add
to the scene a crowd of shipping, appearing like a forest below the
town, and fruitful gardens and orchards hanging upon the hills above it;
then place in the back-ground lofty mountains, clothed with thick woods,
or crowned with dark majestic clouds, and you will have a correct
representation of the splendid picture which was before us, as we
approached the town of St. Pierre.

Nor is the appearance of the place itself less striking. Unlike the
towns of the English colonies, it resembles in structure those of
Europe, particularly some of the old cities of the continent—the houses
being high, the streets paved and very narrow, and the shops open, with
the goods lying exposed for sale at the door and the unclosed windows.
From its form, together with being placed directly under the hills, and
on the leeward side of the island, you will perceive that the
temperature of St. Pierre must be excessively high, and that
convenience, more than health, has been consulted in marking the site of
the capital. Happily a current of water finds its course down the middle
of each of the principal streets, from a spring at the side of one of
the hills, which serves as a stream of health and life to the
inhabitants: without this, the air of the town must have been dreadfully
oppressive, and the heat insupportable.

We remarked, as a further novelty upon landing at St. Pierre, that the
inhabitants, compared with those we had been lately accustomed to meet,
were of uncommonly fair complexion. Nor is this peculiarity confined to
those who have arrived from the distant shores of the Atlantic: it
extends equally to the white creoles, and the people of colour,
appearing even in those who are only a single remove from the negroes;
perhaps it may be attributed to their living in a more confined heat,
and closer shade, than those whom we had recently left in the more
exposed colonies of Guiana.

Not in its structure and appearance only, but in its accommodations
likewise, St. Pierre more resembles the towns of Europe, than any of the
places where we have lately resided. It is the capital of the Charibbee
islands; and may be regarded as the metropolis of the windward colonies.
It is now the head-quarters of the army, and consequently the great mart
of stores and provisions, and the centre of general commerce. It offers
the convenience of regularly established taverns and hotels, where
strangers or travellers immediately find an appropriate home. Public
walks, clubs, billiard-rooms, and a handsome playhouse, also crowded
streets, overflowing shops, and a busy traffic are found at St. Pierre:
these, together with the active movements of a military throng, create a
mixed and interesting scene of war, pleasure, and business, each, in its
turn, predominant, yet all prevailing together, and pursued with equal
ardor by their separate or their common votaries.

Coming from the quietude of Guiana, the change is peculiarly striking,
and excites an impression very similar to that which is experienced, in
England, upon removing from the stillness of a rural abode, to the noise
and hurry of London. At present we live at an hotel, kept by a mulatto
woman, where, by means of money, we have the power of procuring
accommodations, and amply supplying our wants: which was not always the
case at our late abode in South America. Our beds are good, the table is
well served, and of the attendance we cannot complain. For dinner we pay
two dollars each, for breakfast three quarters of a dollar, and for a
bed the same. Madeira wine is a dollar and a quarter the bottle, Claret
a dollar and a half, and other things in proportion; so that the whole
expense of living in the plainest manner (although, from our late
change, we might regard it as sumptuous) may be stated at an average of
a joe each day. This, it may be remarked, can ill consist with the
limited pay of many of the officers: but a well-regulated mess may be
provided at a cheaper rate, though not upon terms so reasonable as in
Europe, as you will readily perceive when I tell you that a thin
half-fed calf is sold in the market at the price of fifteen or sixteen
joes, a chicken for more than two dollars, and a turkey for seven
dollars.

The commander in chief being absent, with the expedition to Porto Rico,
at the time of our arrival, I have not yet had an opportunity of
acquiring any correct intelligence respecting our further destination:
he returned to Martinique yesterday; I may hope, therefore, to give you
some tidings, concerning our movements, in my next letter.

                                                                  Adieu.




                             LETTER XXXVI.


                                         Fort Royal, Martinique, May 16.

Sir Ralph Abercromby having taken up his quarters at Fort Royal, instead
of St. Pierre, I have changed my home, in order to avail myself of the
opportunity of laying before His Excellency a full statement of the
returns, accompts, and general proceedings of the hospital department
lately under my direction: and I feel much satisfaction in being able to
inform you that the reports which I have presented have been honored
with the full approbation of our respected commander in chief, who has
confirmed his approval of the services of the branch of the St. Domingo
hospital staff, lately stationed in Guiana, by issuing his warrant for
all deficiencies of pay and disbursements to be made up to us before we
leave Martinique.

As a military position, Fort Royal is much stronger than St. Pierre;
but, the town is smaller, less pleasant, built upon flatter ground, and,
in point of situation, even less salubrious. Still it is peculiarly
convenient as a residence for the commander in chief, on account of the
vicinity of the harbour, and the ready communication, which it offers,
with the admiral and the fleet. The forts and batteries raised about it,
for the defence of the town and the shipping, have been constructed at
an immense expenditure of labour and money. They are very formidable,
and of imposing aspect; particularly Fort George, which is built upon a
high and distinct tumulus, so steep as to be difficult of ascent; and
commands the town, the bay, the Carenage, and the other batteries below,
while these form the more immediate protection of the shipping.

Such indeed is the strength of the hill on which Fort George is
constructed, that, if it were duly garrisoned and provided, it might
resist the attack of almost any force that could be brought against it.

The harbour is extensive, and, from the safe anchorage which it affords
to a very large fleet, it renders this island particularly important in
a time of war.

We came from St. Pierre to Fort Royal in one of the passage-boats of the
island, which of all the modes I have yet experienced of journeying by
sea, I found to be the least unpleasant. It is a large canoe rowed by
three negroes, a fourth sitting at the end and steering with a paddle. A
light awning is raised over the sternmost part of the vessel, and the
deck is neatly spread with matting, upon which the passenger may sit, or
lie down at his ease, and view the rich coast of the island as he
passes. Being narrow and very long, this little bark is pulled on with
great rapidity, the motion being so slight as scarcely to be felt.
Sometimes, when going to leeward, the negroes, in order to save
themselves the trouble of rowing, venture to hoist a sail: but this is
always dangerous, the canoe, from its lightness, being liable to be
upset by any sudden gust of wind, which might proceed from the small
bays, or round the points of any of the rocks, at the moment when it
should happen to be passing.

The distance, by sea, from St. Pierre to Fort Royal is seventeen or
eighteen miles; but the time required for the passage will of course
vary according to the state of the wind, and the period of the tide. We
performed it in three hours.

There is a nearer way by land, but the road is rugged, and leads across
rude and broken hills; the passage-boat is, therefore, the more common
conveyance between the two towns.

In addition to the excellent sight of the luxuriant borders of the
island afforded us by this little voyage, the beauty and interest of the
scene were greatly enhanced by our falling in with the expedition
returning from Porto Rico; consisting of about forty sail of ships,
standing along the coast, towards Fort Royal harbour. The breeze was
light, the water tranquil, and the horizon so clear that we could
plainly see every ship; while the fertile shores of the island, the fine
bay of Fort Royal, and a wide expanse of ocean were all distinctly
before the eye.

Either we have been unfortunate in our quarters at this place, or the
accommodations are very inferior to those of St. Pierre; and in
proportion as they are worse they are more extravagant. For a bad
breakfast the charge is a dollar—for a very poor dinner, at the table
d’hôte, two dollars and a half—for supper, two dollars—and for a bed, in
a dirty ill-furnished room, a dollar.

The general hospital, or great depôt of the sick, is established at St.
Pierre; and is a permanent institution, conveniently adapted to its
purpose. It is termed La Charité, and was used by the French, as a
colonial hospital, before we took possession of the island, being under
the superintendence of Le Père Edouard, an aged French physician, who
still resides as a medical practitioner in the town of St. Pierre.

In point of cleanliness, order, and general regulation this hospital
does much credit to the Inspector-general, while it holds out a high and
parental example to all its detachments. The edifice is handsome and
spacious, but its situation is ill-chosen, it being erected close under
a hill, with other buildings near to it, more elevated than itself,
whereby the free circulation of air is much impeded. Upon a piece of
ground, at a short distance in the front, are planted rows of trees,
whose cool shade may in some degree compensate the want of breeze,
although they combine, with the rude precipices of rock behind, to cast
a gloom upon the building, which gives it the solemn aspect of a
sepulchre. Adjoining to the hospital are apartments for the officers and
attendants, and a large public mess-room, together with other offices
and out-buildings, which are necessary to the completion of a permanent,
and well-ordered establishment.

Several other places are fitted up, within the town of St. Pierre, as
occasional wards, to prevent the necessity of over-crowding La Charité,
which, although very spacious, has not been found sufficiently extensive
for the accommodation of the immense numbers thrown into it, during the
late pressure of sickness. Upon a lofty hill, in a very delightful
situation above the town, is established, likewise, a temporary hospital
for convalescents; to which those who are recovering are removed from La
Charité, not only with the benefit of pure country air, and a cool
temperature, but with a further advantage of being separated from the
sick and the dying, and placed where their convalescence may be more
speedily advanced, by taking gentle exercise upon the hills, amidst a
varied and cheerful scenery.

I am happy in being able to inform you that the extreme violence of the
fever has subsided at Martinique, as well as upon the coast of Guiana.
The _seasoning_, as it is commonly termed, has been dreadfully severe;
and it is our best hope that those, who have had the good fortune to
withstand it, have become sufficiently creolised to resist its future
attacks. In this island the disease has proved extremely fatal. It
assumed the same character as in Guiana, but with even additional
malignity. Of the mode of treatment I do not learn any thing very
decisive: bleeding and mercury are not in repute at La Charité; but the
medical officers have been so little stationary, that no precise method
of practice has been regularly pursued. The means employed by one, have
not, perhaps, been deemed the most advisable by the next; so that amidst
the fluctuating opinions upon the subject, each remedy has had its
advocate, and no settled plan of cure has been established.

Great mortality has occurred among the officers of the hospital
department. Of ten physicians belonging to the staff of the Charibbee
Islands, five have died since the month of February last year. You will
perceive from this unhappy fact, that, although it be not the duty of
medical officers to march up to the cannon’s mouth, theirs is not a
service free from danger.




                             LETTER XXXVII.


                                                     St. Pierre, May 30.

Again I address you from the pleasant town of St. Pierre—the London of
the windward colonies; whither I was glad to return as soon as
circumstances would allow. Finding that we may be detained here some
time longer, we have taken private apartments, where we have very good
accommodations, and are patiently waiting for an opportunity to proceed
to St. Domingo. We learn that the large hospital, La Charité, has been
used as a general depôt of sick, not only for Martinique, but also for
the neighbouring colonies; whence it must necessarily result that the
weekly reports, from this island, can afford no just criterion of its
healthiness or insalubrity. Numbers of the medical and surgical cases
borne upon the Martinique returns, having been brought hither from other
stations, the proportion of sickness and death will consequently be
diminished in those places, while that of this island will be increased;
and the returns will be a very inaccurate standard for ascertaining the
casualties by disease in the several colonies: still, upon a general
computation, I cannot but observe the correctness of a remark lately
expressed to me by Sir Ralph Abercromby—viz. “that the coast of Guiana
has been less destructive than the islands!”

I may now remark that the general face of this colony differs not less
from the coast of Demarara, than the town of St. Pierre does from the
town of Stabroek. The combination of grand and beautiful scenery, with
richness and fertility, renders Martinique one of the most pleasant
islands, not only of the West Indies, but, perhaps of the globe. I was
much delighted with the fine views, and the picturesque hills and fields
and woods of Barbadoes, but Martinique out-rivals them all—its valleys
are richer, its mountains higher, and its forests more deep and
extensive; nor does it bear about it the same marks of exhaustion and
decrepitude, but seems to luxuriate in all the vigour of youth and
health.

A few days since, I made an excursion into the country, when scenes of
rude nature and fertile cultivation presented themselves in the most
pleasing variety at almost every step of my path. My visit was to Mr.
Dornford the commissary of accompts, whom I found residing in a cool
temperature, at a most romantic cottage, upon a high mountain, about
three miles from St. Pierre; whither he had retired in search of the
health, which he had lost in the heated town below.

Leaving St. Pierre, with its fine bay, and the wide ocean, the ascent is
by a steep path, between hills planted with cassada and coffee, leading
to mountains still higher and higher; some covered with rich tropical
productions, others clothed with wild woods, and the loftiest of them
festooned with dark majestic clouds. At one part of the ride the path
runs along a narrow mountainous ridge, whose steep declivities, on each
side, are formed into fields of coffee and cassada. On the left, the
deep vale below is loaded with sugar, and enriched with the silent
meanderings of a river, which in its course through these (literally)
sweet fields, wanders to the foot of a most rural village, and thence
winds its passage onward to the sea. On the right, the more extended and
equally productive valley is bordered by other hills, beyond which
appears the broad expanse of the ocean: so that within the immediate
view is comprehended all the variety of hill and vale, prolific fields,
rugged mountains and wild forests, the roaring sea, a gentle river, a
quiet romantic village, and the busy public town of St. Pierre. Were a
spot to be chosen, it would be difficult perhaps to find another which
so amply combines all that might be wished for in the most exquisite
panorama.

According to the custom of the West Indies, I was attended by a running
footman, in the person of a young slave, who kept close to his duty by
holding fast to the mane, or the tail of the horse.

While I was at the cottage a storm came on, which was followed by heavy
torrents of rain; and the many beauties of the scenery around, were
improved by the fine varieties of light and shade: but the wet increased
the difficulties of my path; and on my return, I found it expedient to
dismount, and commit my steed to the care of my attendant, in order to
avoid falling over his ears.

Within the distance of an evening promenade the environs of St. Pierre
present a great diversity of interesting prospects, which are commonly
closed by a magnificent back-ground of stupendous mountains.

In no particular does the novelty of Martinique strike the observer more
forcibly than in the great number of females who are seen at the doors
of the houses, or parading about the streets and public walks. At
Demarara it was a subject of common remark, that after the British
troops arrived, the males far outnumbered the females; but at
Martinique, notwithstanding the military battalions, the proportion is
greatly in favor of the other sex. On my noticing this fact, two causes
were assigned in explanation of it—1st, the general policy of the
French, who have usually imported a greater proportion of female slaves,
than either the English or the Dutch; 2dly, the late influx of female
emigrants from Guadaloupe, and the other French islands. Amidst the
crowded numbers, are also many more European ladies than we had been
accustomed to see in the colonies of Guiana.

The creole pallor of countenance, common to West Indians, prevails also
at Martinique; yet we meet with many females at St. Pierre, and some,
even, among the people of colour, whom we now regard as handsome; but I
speak only comparatively with those of other tropical places, for,
amidst the fresh roses of our English beauties, the prettiest of these
would seem pale and faded.

Their figure and carriage are graceful, and they have all the vivacity
of the European French women: (a proof that this part of the Gallic
character is not the effect of climate.) It is remarkable that many of
the handsomest women now at St. Pierre, are emigrants from Guadaloupe,
which colony seems to be the Circassia of the West Indies; for, almost
uniformly, when we have noticed a woman whose figure and face had more
than common attraction, we have been told “C’est une emigrée de la
Guadaloupe,” or “C’est une Guadaloupienne.”

We made an excursion, a few days ago, to eat fish at a village called
Chasse-pilote, upon the border of the sea, a short distance from St.
Pierre. Here we observed likewise that the streets were crowded with
women; and that scarcely a male was to be seen among them. A venerable
French lady invited us into her house, and treated us with fruit, paying
many compliments to the character of the British troops, and speaking in
high terms of the English nation, in general. Near Chasse-pilote we
found the Cassia fistularis planted in extensive groves, and under the
trees were lying heaps of the pods which might have served to make
lenitive electuary for a year’s consumption for all England.

On the occasion of a late funeral at St. Pierre, we had a farther
opportunity of noticing the great disproportion of females which is so
remarkable at Martinique; they having contributed in excessive numbers
to the crowd. The whole of this scene being novel, I may mention to you
some of the leading circumstances regarding it.

It was the burial of a child of colour, who had been made a Christian
according to the forms of the church of Rome. The procession was deeply
thronged, and conducted by the dark-hued race in their highest style of
African parade. The corpse was placed in a coffin, but instead of being
fastened down, it was only lightly covered with a fine sheet of linen,
which served as a pall. Two mulatto women, clad in white, preceded the
body, supporting the two corners of the sheet: two negro women, clothed
also in white, followed, holding the two other corners. Six men
supported the coffin upon three white napkins, the two first and the two
last dressed in dark clothes, those in the middle in white. Immediately
behind the corpse were several negro and mulatto women, mostly in
coloured apparel; and behind these was a great crowd of nearly three
hundred women, negroes, mulattoes, and mestees, all neatly and uniformly
attired in white; walking nine or ten abreast, and almost filling the
street from side to side, and from end to end. The female costume was a
high white turban, a chemise with very large, loose, short sleeves,
pinned together across the back, and a short white petticoat. The whole
being very clean and neat, the black face, neck, and limbs relieved the
general whiteness of the dress; and, together with the yellow and pallid
countenances, which were intermixed, produced a peculiar and striking
effect.

We have also witnessed another degree of the pomp of Catholic obsequies,
in the funeral procession of a white inhabitant of St. Pierre. On this
occasion, nineteen men and boys led the way, clothed in red and white,
and bearing numbers of crosses, vases, candelabra, and tapers. Following
these were twelve men, dressed in black, carrying similar ornaments and
apparatus, and chanting in sonorous strains. Next came the corpse,
supported by six men, with four others at the corners, clad in sable,
and having bundles of enormous candles in their hands: then succeeded a
deep line of mourners, some wearing the aspect of unaffected sorrow,
some with features of the greatest indifference, heedlessly carrying
large torches, and others with vacant countenances howling out purchased
grief, to the great annoyance of the Protestant inhabitants of the
streets through which they passed.

In order to witness the mode of proceeding in the French, as well as in
the Dutch and English colonies, I have been induced again to attend a
sale of a cargo of slaves. They were exposed to public bidding, in an
open square, at the end of the town of St. Pierre; but, as the business
was conducted by Englishmen, and according to their usual method, it
offered nothing new regarding this degrading traffic in our species. It
will give you pleasure to hear of a circumstance respecting the cargo,
which, though direful to the enemy, does honor to the captain and his
crew, by showing that they must have treated these poor Africans with
kindness and humanity, during the passage from their native country to
their place of bondage. On their voyage to Martinique the vessel was
captured by a French privateer, and a prize-master was put on board to
carry the ship and cargo into Guadaloupe: but, before they reached the
harbour, the negroes rose upon the captors, and killed the French
prize-master, together with all his people; then, liberating the English
crew, restored to them their vessel, and gave themselves up to be
conducted to Martinique, where they were to be sold as slaves. You will
probably anticipate the information, that those negroes, who were the
leaders in recapturing the ship, were purchased on the part of
government, and received as soldiers into the black corps of the island.

Consistently with the desultory style of these Notes, I may conduct you
from the painful ideas of slavery to the pleasurable scenes of the
theatre. The playhouse stands prominent among the places of amusement at
St. Pierre. It is a well-built edifice, handsomely fitted up, and
liberally supported. The performances are given by a company of French
comedians, whose talents, if not such as to obtain plaudits from the
audience of Drury Lane, or Le Theatre François, may claim their rank in
the station of mediocrity.

In point of size and decoration, the building is superior to the
majority of playhouses in the provincial towns of England, and scarcely
inferior to the Haymarket theatre, of London. Probably such an
establishment might not find support in any of the British colonies of
the West Indies; yet, at the little island of Martinique, the house is
not only well attended, but often thronged, particularly on the Sabbath
night; for, Sunday being a gala day, multitudes crowd to their favorite
amusement, and the theatre commonly overflows.

The audience is sometimes very brilliant—indeed exceedingly splendid;
for the influence of fashion extends to these regions, and dress has its
charms, even where so little is required. The ease and gracefulness of
French manners have also reached this spirited colony. In the manners,
the persons, carriage, and attire of the females, there is likewise a
peculiar air of taste and magnificence. They appear with naked elbows,
and waists extremely short, according to the prevailing mode in Europe.

The high twisted turbans, glittering trinkets, and nodding plumes enrich
the general elegance of the apparel; and, being intermixed, throughout
the theatre, with the many-coloured uniforms of the officers, the whole
produces a variety and brilliancy of effect scarcely to be equalled in
the more spacious realms of Drury Lane, or Covent Garden. A dollar is
the price of admission into the boxes; half a dollar into the pit, the
gallery, or the parterre.

The weather has been dry and pleasant ever since our arrival at
Martinique; nor have we yet any marks of the approaching wet season,
although it was supposed that the rains had set in, some time since,
upon the coast of Guiana. We find the heat greater here than at
Demarara; but this is probably the effect of locality. The town of St.
Pierre may be hotter than the town of Stabroek, though the general
temperature of the colony, especially upon the hills, be lower.




                            LETTER XXXVIII.


                                                  Martinique, June 1797.

Many persons here are flattering themselves with the prospect of a
speedy peace. The rumour has probably arisen from the circumstance of
the commander in chief having given directions for a partial diminution
of some of the establishments which is perhaps only an economical
regulation, in consequence of the present tranquil state of the army,
and its reduced numbers. This arrangement being extended to the medical
department, the services of some of the supernumerary assistants, who
were engaged in the islands for a temporary purpose, during the severe
pressure of sickness, are now dispensed with. From the decrease of
disease, and the diminished number of troops, some of the other classes
of medical officers are likewise left without employment, and may,
consequently, return to England; but this, in no degree, authorizes the
expectation of an approaching cessation of hostilities.

I grieve to tell you that our much-valued commissary of accompts has not
experienced any benefit from his retirement at the delightful
mountain-cottage, which I mentioned in a former letter. He is now
returned to St. Pierre for the convenience of medical attendance. Père
Edouard, the venerable French physician, under whose care he was placed
in the early stage of his illness, considers him to be convalescent,
although in a feeble state; but his friends have many anxious
forebodings respecting the event of his case; and wish him safe in
England.

Mr. Dornford made me acquainted with Père Edouard, not only that I might
meet him in consultation on the subject of his own illness; but also
with the obliging intention of giving me an opportunity of hearing his
remarks regarding the fever of Martinique, and tropical diseases in
general.

The Père is a polite and accomplished man, very much of the old French
_regime_, and quite a methodical member of his profession. He was the
principal officer of the medical department at La Charité, before the
island was captured by the English. Desirous of acquiring information
from his experience, you will imagine that I listen with eagerness to
his observations, and that I am much gratified in finding him affable
and communicative. Educated in the continental schools, he has imbibed
their tenets, and, according to the doctrine of former days, he esteems
venæsection the great and leading remedy in all fevers, particularly at
their commencement. The only difference in his treatment of the yellow
fever, and the bilious remittent, of hot climates, consists in the
extent to which the bleeding is carried. In the latter it is seldom
repeated beyond a second, or a third time; recourse being then had to
the Peruvian bark, and other tonics: but in the former the
blood-letting, aided only by laxatives and diluents, is continued
throughout the whole course of the disease.

Père Edouard remarks, that the English physicians have a strange
abhorrence of a slow convalescence; and, from the dread of debilitating
the patient, they do not bleed him sufficiently to subdue the disorder:
but the French physicians, being less fearful, regarding a tedious
recovery, take away blood more freely, in order to overcome the
immediate danger from the disease, which he considers to be effected “by
decreasing, and altering the offending fluid” so considerably as to
prevent the recurrence of febrile action. With this view he holds it
necessary sometimes to repeat the venæsection as many as ten, twelve, or
(as in his own case) fourteen times.

As an elucidation of his practice, the Père maintains that it is not
sufficient to reduce an Englishman, who may be attacked with fever soon
after his arrival in the West Indies, down to the standard of an
Englishman in health; but that he should be bled down to the standard of
a French creole; and then supported through a slow convalescence upon a
diet of bread and water, ptisan, or thin sago. He feels no apprehension
from the excessive debility which must necessarily ensue; nor, on
account of any of the maladies which might result from the depleting
treatment being carried to an extreme degree.

On the fourth inst. we were enlivened by reviews of troops, hoisting of
flags, firing of salutes, and other marks of rejoicing, in honor of his
Majesty’s birth-day; and on the evening of the fifth the governor gave a
grand ball and supper at St. Pierre, on the occasion; when we had an
opportunity of witnessing a crowded assemblage of the beauty and fashion
of Martinique.

According to the custom of the West Indies the ladies danced a long time
without fatigue, in defiance of oppressive heat, and in a room so
thronged that it was almost suffocation, even to remain in it. Without
the exertion of dancing I felt the heat so distressing that I was
obliged to seek relief by walking frequently down a cool avenue of
grenadilloes and jasmine, which led from the door of the house, to a
pleasant garden.

Many genteel and graceful women were present at the ball, and there was
a greater display of handsome females than is common in the West Indies:
but there was no example of that lovely freshness of countenance which
so distinguishes the fair of our country. It has often occurred to me to
observe a striking difference between the foreign ladies, and those of
England, and particularly between the English and the French, which,
however difficult to describe in words, is, to the eye, very
perceptible. More acuteness, more of vivacity and brilliancy are
commonly displayed in the features of French females: but I never
witnessed, in the women of any other country, that sweetly appealing
softness—that modest gentleness—that tender and inviting loveliness of
face, which prevails among the genuine daughters of the British islands.
The smooth and flowing line of beauty is more correctly preserved in the
English countenance than in that of other nations. There is a blooming
delicacy—an expression of tenderness and retirement which, to our sex,
seems to say ... _Protect me!_ while the harder lines and more prominent
points, together with the quickness and animation of the French mien,
bespeak a confidence almost masculine, and appeal only to our ...
_participation_!

But I am wandering from the birth-day and the governor’s fête. Let me
return, and do justice to the ladies I left in the ball-room, by telling
you that the French excel, in dancing, equally in the West Indies, as in
Europe. Nor is this confined to the whites; for the French people of
colour are infinitely superior, in the agility and gracefulness of the
dance, to the dark-hued race of the Dutch and British colonies.

Card-tables were set in two smaller apartments, adjoining the ball-room;
but they were thinly attended, and did not seem to constitute one of the
favorite amusements of the evening.

At midnight a very elegant supper was served in a long saloon, which
opened into the garden, and nearly a hundred ladies sat down to enjoy
the refreshment of a cool room, and a liberal repast; but, instead of
being permitted to partake in comfort and quietness of the plentiful
collation before them, a rude freedom of manners (or an unbecoming
foreign habit) created a scene of scrambling and confusion, which, in
England, would have disgraced a market-day ordinary.

Perhaps it was polite for the gentlemen to place themselves behind the
ladies, professing to attend, and procure them what they wished
for—perhaps it was kind in the ladies to give a bone, or a tart to their
favorite partners; but the scene, thus introduced, was sadly vulgar and
indecorous. The gentlemen crowded about the ladies, pressing upon their
chairs in rows three or four deep, almost forcing them upon the viands;
when some of the fair (with more kindness than delicacy) handed over
their shoulders, to those near them, a leg of a duck or a chicken, a
slice of ham, or some other part of the repast. This seemed to be
regarded as the signal for a general scramble. Pies, tarts, pigeons,
ducks, chickens, ham, fruit, salad, or any thing the ladies could give,
or the men could reach, were now snatched off the table, and torn to
pieces, without knives or forks, or spoons or plates, and devoured, as
if by a den of ravenous wolves, who had been long deprived of their
prey. Here stood one gnawing a bone, there another swallowing fat ham;
the next was tearing asunder the joints of a duck, or a chicken; the
fourth gobbling up a pie or a tart. A tall officer, with his filthy
black whiskers reaching to the corners of his mouth, was cramming down a
bowl of salad with his fingers; another was devouring a plate of fruit,
and the next greedily consuming a dish of cakes and sweets: in short,
the whole group were voraciously gnawing, tearing, and swallowing
whatever provisions chanced to be nearest them, equally regardless of
cleanliness, decency, and good manners. Nor did the fluids of the feast
escape better than the solids: for wine, porter, noyeau, and all the
liquors of the table, were seized in the same lawless manner, and
numbers were seen standing with bottles between their knees, drinking
and serving out the contents to their friends with a spoon, a
tureen-ladle, a butter-boat, or any other unseemly utensil within their
grasp.

It was intended that all should eat, and the governor’s hospitality had
most amply spread the board; but, alas! when those who had waited,
without joining in the scramble, quietly took the seats from which the
ladies retired, they found scarcely any thing remaining upon the table,
for, in addition to the craving appetites with which the supper had been
devoured, it was remarked that some of the ladies, like certain animals,
had auxiliary pouches, which served as reservoirs, to administer to
their stomachs a future supply.

Having noticed the superior style of dancing which prevails among the
French people of colour, I may remark that I have had a recent
opportunity of witnessing it, upon the mirthful occasion of a
negro-wedding; when the slaves of the estate and their visitors were
indulged with a grand ball in order to celebrate the happy alliance.
They danced, in large groups, upon a spacious green, in front of their
owners’ dwelling; and never was a happier crowd assembled. Great agility
was displayed, and, compared with the rude motions and savage gestures
of the slaves in the Dutch and British settlements, their steps might be
considered as graceful.

Besides the happy party upon the green, the inferior orders of the gang
were seen at the negro-huts of the estate, footing it merrily, to the
simple sound of the banjar; nor even among these, did we observe those
disgusting attitudes and movements which constitute so great a part of
the common, hideous dance of the Africans.

When I mentioned, in a former letter, the many beauties, and the
pleasing variety of scenery of Martinique, it would probably occur to
you that they must have appeared peculiarly striking to us, from being
so strongly contrasted with the country we had lately left. That you may
better judge of this, I will now place before you a concise view of some
of the remarkable points of difference, between the coast of Guiana, and
the island of Martinique, such as they present themselves to our early
notice; cautioning you to regard them only as simple facts, given,
without favor or prejudice, merely as they meet the eye and the
observation of a stranger.

             MARTINIQUE.                   DEMARARA AND BERBISCHE.

 Mountainous: varied and             An extensive flat—one continued
 picturesque: rich valleys,          field, richly spread with cotton,
 rivulets, green fields: plantations intersected with great numbers of
 of sugar, coffee and cassada.       wet ditches.

 Roads hilly and rough, hard and     Roads of the common soil, or clay:
 almost always dry—some paved with   in the dry season flat and smooth:
 stone.                              in the wet season deep in mud, and
                                     almost impassable.

 Bold rocks, and romantic shores     The sea at high water above the
 bordering the sea.                  level of the land—kept from
                                     overflowing the country by
                                     artificial banks of mud or clay.

 The principal town large, regularly Scarcely any towns yet formed. The
 built, and, in form, like those of  capital of each colony in its
 Europe: streets long and narrow,    infancy. Streets not paved: houses
 and well paved: houses built of     built of wood, and covered with
 stone, and covered with tiles. Many wood. No villages.
 small villages.

 A playhouse; coffeehouses, and      None.
 taverns; tables d’hotes; public
 promenades; public baths;
 card-clubs.

 Rich stores; well-furnished shops;  No regular shops: a few public
 trades and the various kinds of     stores: division of labour but
 employment branching out into       little introduced.
 numerous divisions, as in Europe.

 Crowded population. People gay and  Population thin. People sedate and
 volatile: proportion of females     reserved. Males more numerous than
 greater than of males.              females.

 Various churches, and religious     No place of worship, nor any signs
 establishments, with great parade   of an established religion.
 of public worship.

 Vegetables, fruits, flowers,        No public cries of any kind in the
 jellies, soups, liqueurs, &c.,      streets.
 publicly cried about the streets.

 A freedom of intercourse, and a     Extreme distance observed between
 degree of familiarity between the   the whites, and all the various
 whites and the people of colour.    shades of Africans, and their
                                     descendants.

 Innumerable shades, or degrees      Gradation very abrupt, a wide
 between the whites and the blacks.  chasm, with only few shades,
                                     between the Europeans and the
                                     Africans.

 Slaves decently clothed: the        Male slaves often naked: females
 females sometimes in shoes.         dressed only in a short coarse
                                     petticoat.

 The loud clang of the whip but      The ear almost daily tortured with
 seldom heard.                       the sound of the whip, and the
                                     cries of the sufferers.

 Mules employed to do the heavy work All the labour performed by slaves.
 of the estates.

 Amidst the many slight shades, and  The sombre veil of slavery every
 the mirth and gaiety of crowded     where manifest.
 numbers, the dark cloud of bondage
 scarcely perceptible.

We find that the French are more in the habit of conversing, as
companions, with the slaves, than is common among the English and the
Dutch; and that the females, employed in the house, are treated more in
the manner of the filles de chambre of Europe. From this circumstance,
together with the slight gradations of shade, or the many links forming
the chain between the Europeans and the Africans, and from the great
number of people of colour, who have obtained their freedom, it is
extremely difficult to ascertain where the line of slavery commences.
But while the eye and the feelings are less offended by the degrading
distinctions of bondage, it is observable that with respect to kicking,
cuffing, and scolding, the French are not more tender towards their
human property than the owners in other colonies. It is even probable
that the less frequent sound of the whip proceeds, in a great degree,
from a cause not exclusively founded in humanity.

In words, the French degrade the people of colour into mere brutes, the
terms negro and bête being commonly used as synonymous. Amidst the noise
of a crowded town, the distressful lash is not so easily heard: nor is
it common, at St. Pierre, to inflict the punishment in the same exposed
manner as at Stabroek and New Amsterdam; it being a regulation of the
police, that any one, wishing to have his slave punished, shall send him
to the public bourreau (or executioner) at the house of correction,
accompanied with a written charge or deposition against him, and a
certain fee. By this arrangement the chastisement is better proportioned
to the offence than it might be under the immediate inspection of the
enraged master, and is, at the same time, stamped with an air of public
justice.

Although it would be difficult, or impossible, from either face or
manner, to distinguish many of the people of colour from the creole
whites, still, however nearly they may approach in hue, or in conduct,
it would be regarded as an irretrievable disgrace to intermarry with any
of the race, however distantly descended from the Africans. If, by the
minutest scrutiny of pedigree, only the slightest trace of negro blood
can be discovered in their veins, it forms an indelible stain, and
establishes an impenetrable barrier against such an union.

In Martinique, the descendants of the Africans sometimes observe the
regular forms of matrimony among themselves; but the whitest and best
educated of their females prefer living as chères amies, with Europeans,
or white creoles, rather than marry with any of the other classes; all
of whom they regard as infinitely inferior.

The great distinction, between the whites, and the people of colour, is
scrupulously observed, also, at public places; for, although in manner,
dress, and person, those of the two classes may be strictly equal,
still, where the fatal taint of African blood can be traced, the
presence of such persons would not be tolerated: they would not be
permitted to sit among, or to associate with genuine _backras_—“les
véritables blancs.”

At the house, where I am now an inmate, the family consists of females
of five or six different shades of skin; and we see, almost daily,
little Miss, the fair daughter of the mestee hostess, tripping along to
church, with her darker slave at her heels, carrying the parasol to
protect her from the sun, and a small stool for her to pray upon; yet,
notwithstanding her being thus attended upon the streets, or to a place
of worship, if this young lady were to presume to appear in the pit or
boxes of the playhouse, she would be instantly taught, that the gallery
was the fit place for persons of African descent.

From these circumstances it will be seen, that the separation formed by
colour is of immense magnitude with respect to the general practice of
slavery. Its influence is beyond all calculation: construed into a sign
of physical inferiority, it describes, at once, the line of demarcation;
and fixes the stigma of bondage in a more precise and forcible manner
than could have been effected by the most rigorous law of human
invention. Nature has legibly drawn the distinctive line. The taint is
marked in the countenance; it exists in the blood—is incurable, and
descends to the remotest posterity. It is extremely doubtful whether the
system which is pursued in the West Indies, could have been continued to
the present day—whether the moral laws of our nature could have been,
thus long, held at defiance, if the slave-owners had not raised about
them an impregnable barrier, by seizing upon this most important
physical distinction.

My pen being now upon the subject of slavery, I may relate an occurrence
which happened only the day before we sailed from Demarara; and which, I
am sorry to remark, stands too prominent in confirmation of the reputed
cruelty practised by some of the Dutch colonists towards their negroes.

I took my farewell dinner with a party at the commandant’s; and, in the
evening, after I had retired, but while the other gentlemen remained at
table, they were disturbed by the groans of some person, who seemed to
be in extreme agony. Prompted by feelings of humanity, Colonel Hislop
sent one of the officers to the house, from whence the afflicting cries
were thought to proceed, in order to ascertain if any person were ill,
or if it might be in his power to afford relief; when, to the
astonishment of all who were present, a scene of the most shocking
cruelty was discovered. Instead of meeting with any one in sickness, the
gentleman deputed upon this commission found a wretched slave suffering
under a species of torture which could only have been invented by the
most diabolical malignity.

The unfortunate man was tied down to the ground, with his limbs
stretched out to the utmost extent; the legs being fastened with heavy
chains, and the hands with strong cords, which were painfully tightened
by being twisted with pieces of wood, placed across the wrists. For the
honor of human nature, I hope it is a solitary, although an absolute
fact, that this poor negro had been so confined, without being allowed a
morsel of food, for three days; and with the additional cruelty of being
burnt across the fleshy parts of his person at repeated intervals, with
red-hot iron. Could such a mode of torture have suggested itself to any
other mind than that of a blacksmith? which was the occupation followed
by the depraved monster, into whose fiery hands it was the lot of this
unfortunate African to have fallen!

The dreadful tale being reported to the commandant, a file of the guard
was instantly marched to the house, with orders to release the sufferer;
and quickly, with the irons and cords remaining upon his limbs, he was
led before the colonel and party, whose timely humanity had saved his
life. His fetters were now removed; food and wine were offered to him;
and he was soothed with the assurance that justice should be done to his
cause: but his strength was so exhausted as scarcely to admit of
restoration! Upon swallowing a morsel of bread, moistened with wine and
water, the effect upon his famished stomach was so painful as to produce
extreme distress, and he nearly fainted: but, after a little time, he
was so much recovered by the kind attentions of the commandant and his
friends, as to be sensible of the anxieties of those about him; and,
when questioned regarding the crime which had provoked this horrid
punishment, it proved that he was utterly ignorant for what fault, or
upon what pretence, he had been treated with such savage barbarity!

The hardened wretch, his master, was examined as to the nature of the
offence which had urged him to this frightful example of cruelty.
Whether his consciousness of the insignificance of the alleged
misdemeanor, or the dread of the requital he merited, prevented him from
avowing it, I could not learn, but he persisted in the most obstinate
silence respecting it, and replied only by confused and hurried appeals,
piteously imploring the commandant to pardon him, and beseeching that he
might not be subjected to the ignominy of a personal punishment. His
agitation was excessive: forgetful how grievously he had debased himself
by his outrageous conduct, the apprehension of being exposed to the
degradation of a corporal chastisement so entirely possessed his mind,
that no direct answer could be obtained from him; every reply being an
humble petition for mercy, or an anxious supplication not to be
stigmatized with the disgraceful retribution, which he seemed conscious
that he deserved.

It was the general opinion that he had been instigated to this act of
deliberate cruelty by some trivial fault, which he was ashamed to
acknowledge as the cause of such direful malice; but, as I left the
colony the following morning, I had no opportunity of ascertaining
whether he was afterwards brought to confess what was the real or
pretended offence, which the savage had deemed it fit to avenge with
such horrid inhumanity.




                             LETTER XXXIX.


                                                       St. Pierre, June.

The whole of May, and the early part of the present month were dry and
fine at Martinique; although, last year, at Demarara, we observed that
the rainy period set in as early as the middle of April. Here, scarcely
any rain fell until the 11th inst. when the clouds poured forth their
heavy streams. It is now considered to be the wet season; yet, so slight
are the marks of it, between the showers; and so very different was the
whole face of the country, in Guiana, during the rains of this part of
the year, that, upon comparison, we might still imagine it to be the dry
season.

For several months past I have been free from the annoyance of the
prickly heat; but, upon this return of the rainy weather, my surface is
again covered with it. We have great comfort in perceiving that the
insects are fewer here than in Guiana, where the tribes of flying and
creeping things constitute as great a plague as formerly in the land of
Egypt. The musquitoes, in particular, are far less troublesome than we
found them last year. They do not seem to like us so well, nor is the
effect of their bitings half so severe. Upon our arrival at Demarara,
soon after we came from Europe, these little buzzing tormentors almost
devoured us. If we were not well protected against them, during the
night, we rose in the morning with our faces so bitten and swollen, that
we were scarcely able to see. Now, we sleep upon open beds, without the
protection of gauze curtains, or any other defence; and if a chance
musquito happen to fix upon us, the wounded part neither inflames nor
rises into an itching tumour, as was the case in Guiana.

Perhaps, from this fact, an argument might be adduced in proof of the
inflammatory nature of that sad malady of climate, called yellow fever;
which, like the musquitoes, assails new-comers in violent and continued
attack; but when they have become acclimated, annoys them only in
weakened and intermitted seizures. While the European strength and
firmness of fibre remain, the bites of musquitoes produce inflammation
and painful hardness; but when the frame has become relaxed and
enfeebled by long exposure to heat, the same effect does not follow: so
of fever—when it afflicts persons recently arrived, and still possessing
the rigid fibre, and strong arterial resistance of a milder temperature,
it assumes a continued and inflammatory form; but when it invades the
languid relaxed creoles, or creolised, a lower degree of diseased action
is induced, and the disorder appears under a remittent or an
intermittent type.

The eleventh instant was observed at St. Pierre as a day of high
religious festival, being what is termed La Fête de Dieu. A splendid
procession took place on the occasion, which afforded us a favorable
opportunity of witnessing the gaudy parade of Catholic ceremonies. The
long and pompous train moved in deep solemnity through the streets,
making occasional pauses, for the twofold purpose of giving rest to the
attendants, and being viewed by the wondering populace.

A grand altar was raised, in La rue Precipice, at only a short distance
from the house where I reside, so that I could observe, from my window,
every part of the procession. I noted the order in which it moved, at
the moment it was passing before me; and now send you a fair copy, that
you may judge of the stateliness and splendour which mark the religious
observances of this little island.

The procession moved through the streets in the following order: first
appeared

                               TWO BOYS,

dressed in white cassocks, carrying long rods or staves, richly
ornamented, with a picture of the Virgin and child suspended between
them. Next came

                              THREE BOYS,

the one in the middle clad in white, and bearing a silver crucifix;
those at the sides, clothed in red, decorated with white crosses, and
supporting each a massive candelabrum, in which blazed a huge wax taper.
Following these were

                       FORTY-EIGHT LITTLE GIRLS,

in pairs, very beautifully dressed in white and flowers, with white
crowns upon their heads, and carrying green boughs. The next were

                     THREE PAIRS OF BOYS AND GIRLS,

in red and white flowered tunics, and bearing large tapers. These were
followed by

                            AN AGED PRIEST,

robed in white, with a small silver bell in his hand:

                     THREE PAIRS OF BOYS AND GIRLS,

habited as the others, succeeded. Then came

                           FORTY-EIGHT GIRLS,

somewhat older than the preceding, neatly dressed in white, their brows
encircled with garlands of flowers, each bearing a large taper decorated
with flowers. Next to these was

                          A PARTY OF SOLDIERS,

under arms, followed by

                            A MILITARY BAND,

with music playing. Behind the band were

                              AN OLD NEGRO

and

                             FIVE PRIESTS,

in white robes, ornamented with flowered crosses, and carrying large
tapers. After these came

                              TWO PRIESTS,

of venerable years, in similar but more splendid attire, also bearing
large tapers. To these succeeded

                        TWENTY-FOUR YOUNG GIRLS,

very superbly dressed, carrying baskets of flowers.

From this point the line of procession was supported by a file of
colonial troops, under arms. The first between the military lines, and
following the twelve pairs of females, were

                               FOUR BOYS,

handsomely clad in white, each bearing a silver censer, smoking with
incense, and suspended by a long silver chain, to the length of which
the censers being simultaneously thrown at intervals, in an elevated
direction, clouded the air with perfume. The next were

                           FOUR YOUNG GIRLS,

carrying silver vessels of different shapes, enclosing incense. To these
succeeded other

                               FOUR BOYS,

each bearing, like the former, a silver censer. Next to these followed

                             EIGHT FEMALES,

supporting sable plumes, waving on staves adorned with flowers. Behind
these came

                           A MILITARY OFFICER

and

                          A VENERABLE PRIEST,

immediately preceding

                              THE CANOPY,

covering a coffin, which was the great and interesting object of the
procession. Consequently the canopy was most conspicuous in the
costliness and splendour of its decorations. It was formed of crimson
velvet, bordered with gold, supported by four pillars, richly gilt and
ornamented, at each corner, with plumes of white feathers. In the front
of it was painted a wide-expanded eye, as a type to signify the
omniscience and omnipresence of the Deity, who sees, rules, and governs
over all. Within the canopy were

                          THREE OTHER PRIESTS,

in splendid copes, each reading a small book, which rested, together
with their hands, upon

                              THE COFFIN,

placed also under the canopy, directly before them.

                        PARTY OF COLONIAL TROOPS

were the bearers of the canopy, four of them supporting it alternately
at the corners. Immediately behind it was

                        A NUMEROUS BODY OF MEN,

clothed in black; and, following these,

                         A COMPANY OF SOLDIERS,

under arms, who closed the procession.

A great multitude of people, men, women, and children, of various hues
and ages (but mostly coloured females), thronged after in a deep train,
pressing close upon the soldiers, and quite filling the streets.

The altar was enriched with profuse decorations of silks, ribands,
flowers, silver vessels, trinkets, and burning tapers. It was also
decked out with flags, and other species of drapery, and covered with a
magnificent awning. The streets had likewise assumed the gay costume of
the procession, being enlivened at various parts with ensigns,
streamers, and many-coloured ornaments; and the appearance of cool and
verdant avenues was ingeniously conveyed, by dressing the fronts of the
houses with green boughs.

The part of the procession which preceded the canopy, passed under the
awning, and advanced beyond it; but when the hallowed equipage reached
the spot where the altar was raised, a sudden pause ensued, the band
ceased to play, and a few words were shouted aloud by the old negro,
which the priests echoed, in soul-inspiring sounds, from the steps of
the altar.

Presently was heard a tinkling of the little silver bell. This acted
like enchantment. Instantly a dead silence prevailed; and all the
persons forming the procession, together with the multitudes who
followed it, fell on their knees, upon the bare street. A solemn
stillness continued, until the sound of the bell was renewed; when the
crowd as suddenly rose from the ground; the boys, bearing the censers,
cast them out, to the extremities of their chains, before the altar,
perfuming the air with incense; flowers were strewed around; the band
again played, and the procession advanced.

As soon as the whole of the train had passed, the altar was disrobed of
its ornaments, the houses were deprived of theirs, and the undressed
street resumed its every-day appearance.

But, notwithstanding this seeming conclusion of the scene, the parade
was continued daily through the different parts of the town, until the
end of the week. On the 22d, which was the close of the fête, the
procession again appeared in our street, moving much in the same order
as before: but the attendant crowd, particularly the female part of it,
was even greater than on the preceding occasion; nor do I remember ever
to have observed such hosts of women assembled. Not only was the street
closely thronged from side to side, but spectators were likewise
collected in every by-lane and avenue, and all the windows were filled
with multitudes, pressing forward to catch a farewell view.

Taking a walk in the evening, I met with several new and decorative
marks of the fête. In one of the streets was erected, with great taste
and ingenuity, a green arbour or alcove, very beautifully formed of
coco-nut leaves; with various plants and fruits of the climate. The
arrangement was rich and elegant, offering a sumptuous and inviting
repast, in a delightfully refreshing shade, while it formed one of the
greatest ornaments of the festival. Two banana-trees were fixed at the
entrance, and appeared as if they were actually growing upon the spot:
every part was green, and all the plants were arranged as if they were
then vegetating from the earth, each loaded with its appropriate fruit.
It seemed as if a choice assemblage of the most delicious productions of
the country had been formed into a sweet and cool bower, wherein the
superiors engaged in the ceremony might retire from the meridian rays,
to take rest and regale themselves: but, upon inquiry, we learned that
this grateful assortment was not intended for such gross and carnal
purposes—it was designed for more holy uses. It was not to gratify the
flesh, nor to pamper the senses: but was collected together, and placed
in this seductive manner, in the way of the procession, in order that
the fruits might be sanctified by a passing benediction; and rendered
doubly sacred in consequence of the ceremony being performed under the
omniscient eye of the canopy. Multitudes of persons had contributed
towards this hallowed collection, and, after the holy sprinkling had
shed its solemn influence upon them, the blessed fruits were removed by
their respective owners, and taken home as an inestimable treasure.

How long shall the sanctity of religion be masked with such idle pomp?
How long shall such vain parade mock the simplicity of a pure and
Christian devotion?




                               LETTER XL.


                                                  Martinique, July 1797.

Daily experience more and more confirms the observation, that the
prominent features of character, seen among the European French, obtain
likewise amidst the creole and other residents in their colonies. In
England, it is not confined to the vulgar to regard the terms Frenchman
and petit-maître as words of synonymous import; nor can it be denied, by
the warmest advocate for Gallic pretensions, that an air of frivolity
prevails among the French people, as a part of their national character.
The same is likewise observable among the inhabitants of their
settlements. Various causes probably act in combination to produce this
prominent trait among them. It commences with their infancy, and
connects with their earliest education.

The French people prescribe to themselves rules of health and of
regimen. They seem neither to eat, to move, to act, nor to think
according to nature: all is artificial, and _le petit remède_ is as
necessary as the pap or the breakfast. From the cradle they are taught
_de se soigner, de se menager!_ and habit begets a mode of
self-discipline which puts nature to the blush!

But let me return to the circumstance which has led to these remarks. A
few evenings ago, walking with some gentlemen of the hospital
department, upon the public promenade, we observed a party of French
boys, not amusing themselves with racing and rude gambols, like the
youths of England, but collected into a group, discussing rules of
health, and of diet, with all the zeal of practised nurses, or timid
hypochondriacs. The peculiarity of the conversation having excited our
curiosity, we were induced to listen to them with attention, and were
not less surprised at the acuteness and discrimination of these youthful
disputants, than amused at their subject, and the grave manner in which
they had been taught to discuss it.

To avoid hurtful excesses, and observe such moderation as may be
necessary for the preservation of health, is, at all times, advisable;
but to teach children to debate, like pedantic pretenders in medicine,
whether oatmeal-gruel be better than rice-gruel—barley-water more
wholesome than toast and water—veal-broth than chicken-broth; whether it
be best for the health to dine at half after twelve, or at one
o’clock—whether plantains produce more humours than bananas—whether it
be most proper for the constitution to put a bit of carrot or of turnip
into the soup, is to bring them up such ineffable triflers, that they
can be fit society only for invalids and aged females. The best mode of
preparing a basin of soup-maigre, and which vegetables may be boiled in
it with least danger of _inflaming the blood_, or forming too many
_humours_, would afford conversation for half a dozen Frenchmen, for as
many hours; and from the eagerness betrayed in the debate, a person
might be led to imagine that they must be occupied upon a subject of not
less consequence than apportioning allotments of the Turkish or the
Austrian empire.

After we had been amused with the conversation of these boys, upon
petit-bouillon, soup-maigre, eau-de-poulet, ptisan, and the like, we sat
a short time with a party of French ladies, when soup and sickness, bile
and humours, were again made the subject of discourse. An Englishman,
who was present, happened to put a knife to a small pine, with the
intention of dividing it among the party, when the French ladies all
rose, with uplifted hands, to prevent it, exclaiming in broken English,
“Eat anane at night!”—“Dat shall you make sick.”—“Cela vous fera mal au
ventre.”—“It is no good for eat anane at night.”—“If it you shall eat,
dat vill make much humours in de morning! Non! put it away, you shall
not you-self kill!”

With all these minutiæ we do not find that they have better health, or
live to a greater age, than those of the English who are temperate; the
only striking advantage that we observe to arise, from this great
attention to little things, is, that the French, both men and women,
make most excellent nurses, being minutely assiduous and useful about
the sick: and let me do them the justice to add, that I have never found
any other people equally kind and compassionate towards persons
afflicted with disease, whether their friends, their countrymen, or
strangers.

With very sincere grief I have to announce to you fatal tidings of our
poor commissary of accompts, Mr. Dornford, whom I mentioned to you in a
former letter; and in whose fate I feel the liveliest sorrow.
Notwithstanding the opinion of the learned Père Edouard respecting his
progressive convalescence, he was advised to proceed, without loss of
time, either to Europe or to North America: but, like too many others in
sickness, pleading the usual round of negatives, he urged his worldly
affairs as an insurmountable obstacle to the means recommended: viewing
only the difficulties of absenting himself from his calling, the time
necessary for performing a voyage to England or America appeared to him
quite an age; nor was it until he was assured, by his own disordered
feelings, that he must be soon removed from these and all other duties
for ever, if he continued longer at Martinique, that he was at last
prevailed upon to adopt the alternative of going to sea, and sailing
about from one island to another. But, alas! the event has proved that
it was too late for either the greater or the lesser means to be
employed with effect.

The commissary-general very kindly accommodated Mr. Dornford with a
commodious vessel, which had been fitted up in a superior manner, for
his own use. In this he took his departure for Barbadoes, from whence he
was to extend his voyage to various other islands. But, unfortunately,
he there suffered a renewed attack, became much worse, was unable to
pursue his voyage, and returned with all speed to Martinique, in the
determination of going directly, with the fleet, to England. But it
happened that the convoy had sailed the very morning of the day upon
which he arrived. This was a grievous disappointment to him, the
increase of malady, which he had experienced at Barbadoes, having
generated the most serious alarm, and caused him, at length, to feel
assured that there was no chance of his recovery, except from an
immediate removal to a colder climate: but his professional attendants
saw that it was now too late! They regarded it as a fortunate
circumstance that the fleet had sailed, and that he escaped the hurry
and agitation of going on board, where he would most likely have died
before the ship could have left the harbour.

The alarming symptoms which supervened at Barbadoes, had given a new
character to the disease, and proved that the system had suffered more
injury than even the most apprehensive had imagined. A purulent diarrhœa
and expectoration had suddenly taken place, and the already debilitated
frame was rapidly sinking under their continuance. His attendants had
only the sorrowful consolation of contemplating a departing friend, and
all that remained to them was to watch his rapid decline, soothing the
few short hours which might yet be spared him from the grave. On the
26th of June he landed at St. Pierre. In six days after, a final
exhaustion ensued; and, on the 1st of July, he was no more.

I was requested to attend the funeral, and notwithstanding the
distressful feelings I always experience from witnessing the awful
solemnity, I could not refuse myself the melancholy gratification of
joining in this last duty to so valued a man. Many officers of the staff
and garrison paid the same tribute of respect to his remains, and the
splendid, yet doleful procession, from his house to the place of
interment, formed one of the most impressive and affecting scenes I ever
beheld.

Upon examining the body, it was discovered that a large abscess had
formed within the right lobe of the liver; which, from the inflammation
having extended to the contiguous parts, had ulcerated into the
intestines, and also through the diaphragm into the substance of the
lungs; a circumstance which fully explained the symptoms of the few last
days, while it proved that no effectual remedy was within the reach of
human skill.




                              LETTER XLI.


                                                       Martinique, July.

We are waiting in daily and tiresome suspense the arrival of the packet,
or some other vessel by which we may proceed to St. Domingo. For a long
time past we have understood that our services have been urgently
required at the place of our destination, yet we are still detained in a
state of uncertainty, rendered doubly tedious by our being without any
regular employment.

In the failure of the expected packets, we had, lately, almost prevailed
upon ourselves to accept births on board a slave-ship, going down to
Jamaica, with a cargo of negroes from the coast of Guinea: but, upon
inspecting the accommodations of the vessel, we found that nothing short
of absolute necessity could induce us to submit our persons to a
situation so filthy and abhorrent. The best sleeping-birth that could
have been allotted to us, was upon the open deck, over the stench
arising from a crowd of blacks crammed into the cabin; and, during the
day, we must have herded in common with the slaves. This was not to be
endured: we accordingly returned on shore, to wait for a better
conveyance.

Busy rumour keeps pace with our eager expectations, and each morning
brings us tidings of the sailing of a packet from England; the packet’s
arrival; or of some vessel having spoken the packet at sea. We listen
anxiously to these reports; but, hitherto, they have uniformly
disappointed us.

In my letters from these regions, I have occasionally alluded to the sad
inaction of mind and disposition, which obtains among that numerous
class of people, the slaves: the leading trait of whose character may be
said to be indolence, engrafted upon an obdurate and inflexible
perverseness: perhaps the necessary consequence of inveterate ignorance
and insensibility, and the natural result of the degraded state in which
they are held.

An European, unaccustomed to the scenes, and unacquainted with the
effects of slavery, cannot have a just idea of the extreme carelessness
and obstinacy of the negroes: qualities which become highly vexatious
and tormenting to the whites, in their intercourse with them; and which
disturb, almost to madness, the irritability of those who are but
slightly removed from the Africans.

Only a few days ago I witnessed a strong instance of this, in a lofty
mulatto dame, who was provoked to a decree of almost frantic violence by
the insuperable heedlessness and apathy of her darker attendants: but I
should not have regarded a mere fit of rage, in a lady of a tawny, or a
fairer hue, a circumstance worth relating, if her fury had not been
succeeded by some calmer effusions, which strictly coincided with what
must have been observed by every one who has had the misfortune to be
much concerned with slaves.

I found this proud female, foaming in all the high tempest of wrath,
bitterly scolding, and loudly bewailing the stupidity of her sable gang,
vowing that (notwithstanding she was only a single remove from them
herself) she thought them “even more stupid than brutes,” insisting that
it was “absolutely impossible to govern them without the frequent aid of
the whip,” and declaring that, however often they might be required to
do the same thing, it was “invariably necessary still to repeat the
order every time!”

My own experience has so fully confirmed the latter part of the remark,
and I have so repeatedly felt the annoyance, arising from this source,
that I have actually learned to compassionate those whose lot it is to
be served by slaves, in nearly the same proportion as I pay these poor
degraded beings themselves.

Another leading feature in the character of the people of colour
manifests itself in their cruelty to each other; and as our
correspondence is not limited to the bare statement of general
circumstances, I proceed, according to my epistolary privilege, to lay
before you an example in point.

I have already given you specimens of this disposition, as exhibited in
the savage fightings of these people: but it betrays itself likewise in
their conduct towards their children and slaves, whose submissive
forbearance is often not less remarkable than the intemperate severity
of their parents and owners; and might be expected to disarm them of
their cruelty, if it were not that the gloomy ignorance of slavery
supplies neither rein nor curb to passion, but leaves it to expand
itself in unchecked ferocity upon the offender.

An old mulatto woman, and her daughter, of somewhat fairer skin than
herself, are living in the house opposite to my lodgings, and I
frequently find the quiet of my dwelling disturbed by the loud cries of
the one, and the boisterous stormings of the other. On a late occasion
of correcting her daughter, this unfeeling old beldam exhibited a degree
of inhumanity, which, I trust, is peculiar to the regions of slavery.

The daughter is a grown-up woman, and is tall and strong as the parent,
who, nevertheless, still exercises the full privilege of chastising her.
In consequence of her not submitting quite so patiently as was usual,
the old fury snatched up pieces of wood, iron, or any other coarse
weapon within her reach, and cut her upon the head until the blood
streamed down her face: but, not satisfied with this, she afterwards
pursued the punishment by tying her hands with a strong cord, and
flogging her with the cow-skin until she submitted without repining, and
most humbly implored her parent’s pardon. After receiving the hard blows
and lacerations upon her head, the poor girl stood, without offering the
slightest resistance, to have her hands fastened, and to endure the
lashing of the cow-skin, seeming to acknowledge it a right in the mother
to punish her, although she had lived to years of maturity, and had
strength enough to have tossed the old miscreant out at the window.

Upon inquiry I learned that this hardened wretch had bred up her
daughter in habits of idleness, and now treated her in this barbarous
manner because she was unacquainted with the toils of industry.

Among the novel circumstances, which have occurred to our observation, I
may mention the mode of feeding mules in this island. Taking a walk into
the country a few evenings ago with one of my comrades, we passed the
house of a planter, where we saw, in the yard before the negro-huts, a
herd of mules, waiting near two large iron sugar-boilers, filled with
water, and running from one to the other. These vessels seemed to have
been placed as reservoirs, purposely for their use. Both of them were
full, and the water appeared to be clear and pure, yet, notwithstanding
the mules betrayed strong marks of thirst, not one of them ventured to
drink. They put their noses to the liquid, then started from the vessel
that contained it, and ran to the other. After smelling of this in a
similar manner, they hurried back again to the first, and thus continued
going from one to the other, without tasting the water in either of
them! Singular as it may seem, the purity of the fluid was the cause of
their refusing to take it.

Seeing them reject the water, and yet run first to one vessel, and then
to the other in continued succession, as if eager to drink, we were
curious to observe how they were to be satisfied. Presently appeared two
slaves, bearing large jars of melasses, which they emptied into the
reservoirs. Still the mules only put their noses to them, and ran from
one to the other without tasting the contents of either. We continued
watching in order to discover what further was necessary to make the
drink palatable to them. At length came a negro boy with a long stick,
and stirred up the melasses, mixing it well with the water, upon which
all the mules instantly swallowed it with the greatest eagerness, biting
and kicking each other violently in their contest which should reach the
deepest draught.

We learned from the slaves, that these animals had been so accustomed to
have their drink sweetened, that they would not taste it until the
melasses was put into the vessels, and stirred from the bottom, so as to
be well mixed with the water. What was the real or fancied advantage of
this seemingly extravagant indulgence, these poor ignorant blacks were
unable to inform us.

Being a circumstance not familiar to Englishmen, I may tell you that it
is common to see frogs brought in baskets, and exposed for sale in the
public market at Martinique. One of large growth is usually suspended
over the stall by way of signal, implying that his croaking comrades may
there be purchased.

Among the peculiarities of Martinique, I may also notice its celebrated
noyeau, that delicious _liqueur_ for which the island is in such high
repute; and which is so exquisitely prepared at the house of Madame la
Grande-maison, whose cellars I have visited, in order to taste this
favorite composition in its original purity.

I have also had an opportunity of seeing the noyeau-tree, which, in its
wood, its leaf, and its growth, very much resembles a standard
peach-tree. Unfortunately, it is not at this season in blossom, or in
fruit, so that I could only observe the leaf, which in taste strongly
resembles the bitter almond, and might serve instead of the nut, the
part commonly used, to give that fine flavour for which this favorite
liquor is so much esteemed.

Among the customs which differ from those of Europe, I may mention that
of making a high compensation for medical attendance and remedies in
sickness. It is not common, here, for those of the healing art to be
employed exclusively as physicians. They more frequently engage in all
the different branches of the profession; and the whole body of them
being termed “Doctors,” they both receive the fee, and vend the
medicines: and so liberal is the remuneration, that if a colonial
practitioner can preserve his health, and obtain a tolerable share of
employment, he may rapidly accumulate a fortune.

In St. Pierre the medical attendant receives, from his patient, two or
three dollars for each visit, besides demanding the following rate of
charges for his remedies, which he, of course, supplies at his own
discretion:

           viz. a draught, or a dose of salts            6s.
                a mixture                       14s. or 15s.
                a pill                                   2s.
                a quart bottle of bark infusion 25s. or 30s.

powders, boluses, and all other formulæ in proportion.

A medical man from the north of Tweed, who is now in busy employment
here, assures me that these are his lowest prices, even to common
sailors, who are brought sick on shore, or to whom he is called, on
board the vessels in the bay. I was equally surprised and distressed to
hear it; for it is evident that, in such cases, the patient must soon
die of the disease, or be ruined by the expense of his remedies!

From the fatiguing duties of his occupation, the life of a practitioner
in medicine, in these regions, is held upon a very precarious tenure. It
is fit, therefore, that he should be handsomely rewarded for his
services, in order to put him upon an equality with the opulent
inhabitants and successful traders around him; and to afford him a
similar chance of acquiring an early independency, that he may return to
Europe before his health be destroyed, or he fall a victim to the
arduous duties of his calling. But it would be consistent with justice
and humanity to discriminate; for it is avaricious and unbecoming to
exact the scanty earnings from a less successful adventurer, who, when
suffering upon the bed of sickness, appeals alike to the skill and
compassion of his professional attendant.

Let the planter, the agent, or the merchant, enriched by rapid gain,
contribute amply, and share his profits with the preserver of his
health; but let humanity dictate the acceptance of the more honorable
reward of a liberal profession from the less wealthy, who reaps not
himself the harvest of his perilous toil.




                              LETTER XLII.


                                                   At Sea, Aug. 1, 1797.

From the unsteady ocean, my pen eagerly announces to you that, after our
tedious suspense, we are at length embarked on board the Roebuck packet,
and proceeding on our passage to Jamaica.

We pay ten guineas each for our births, food, drink, and all other
necessaries included. To the credit of the captain, the mess is
liberally supplied, being furnished with an ample store of excellent
provisions, and various sorts of wines. It is usually a passage of six
or seven days, being what is termed “a pleasant run down the trades,”
and consequently the finest sailing that is known: but, after all the
trials to which I have been exposed, I have not yet discovered that a
sea voyage can be made tolerable. To me the heaving water is itself the
bane of every comfort: even under this best and smoothest sailing, my
afflicted head and sickened stomach cause me to look anxiously for a
more settled element; and all my feelings more and more convince me that
the only circumstance which can render a passage by sea, in any way,
supportable is the anticipation of reaching a desired, and destined
shore.

We left Martinique on Wednesday, July 26th. A breeze sprang up in the
course of the first night, carrying us steadily on, without shifting a
sail, at the rate of seven knots an hour. On the third morning of our
passage, a strange sail was descried on our lee quarter, apparently
standing towards us, and gaining rapidly upon our vessel. It proved to
be a privateer, and we had the prospect of being conducted to a French
prison.

Being determined to resist if we should be attacked, the Roebuck was
instantly converted into a scene of spirited activity: but it not being
the duty of a packet to create delay, by inviting a combat, provided she
can outsail her antagonist, and proceed upon her passage, due
preparation was made both for running and fighting. Every possible sail
was set, the boarding-nets were put up, the sides and quarters deeply
lined with hammocks, canvass, and other materials to protect the men
from the fire of musketry; the guns were made ready, the swivels
pointed, and while every yard was got up, and every inch of canvass
stretched, all was cleared for action. The vessel was not manned equal
to a privateer; but we were a strong body of passengers, and not feeling
it a question of indifference whether to resist or be taken, it was
unanimously resolved, that in case we could not escape by flight, the
vessel should be fought to the last extremity.

Amidst the hurry, a scene occurred, which was highly ludicrous, and
afforded the sailors much amusement. Some of the passengers, with due
regard to the rapacity of the enemy, had recourse to an extraordinary
method of preserving their property. They ran to their trunks and
coffers, upon the first alarm, and took out their valuables in the form
of belts, and bandages, and waistcoats, and other articles of apparel,
all lined or quilted with gold and silver coins, and, stripping off
their common clothing, cased themselves in these metallic garments,
covering them with as many suits of their best clothes, as could be
drawn one over the other, until their figures assumed the grotesque
appearance of Dutch boatmen.

A French gentleman of venerable years, whose limbs had almost lost their
motive power, drew on, with the assistance of his sable dulcinea,
triplicates of apparel, and thus equipped, sat down and passed an
interval of suspense, muttering the expletive _Sacre! Sacre!_ and other
Gallic imprecations against the men in the tops, for not sooner
discovering the privateer; or, in other words, for not seeing her before
she was in sight!

We hauled upon a wind, and stood away more to the north—our pursuer did
the same, and still appeared to gain upon us. But about two o’clock the
breeze freshened, and the Roebuck sailing best upon a wind, we soon
began to distance our enemy. Before dinner-time we were evidently
getting a-head of the privateer, and the party sat down in restored
composure to their meal. In the evening, we had lost the view of our
adversary from the body of the ship, and on the following morning, the
vessel was no longer in sight, even from the topmast head; we therefore
continued our course. It is now the sixth day of our passage; and at
noon we were said to be under the lee of St. Domingo, distant about
thirty-eight leagues from Jamaica. To-morrow, if the breeze continue,
and we meet with no new disaster, we hope to drop our Anchor at
Port-Royal.

                                                         _Jamaica, Aug._

I resume my pen, in order to finish the letter which I began upon the
voyage. Taking up the subject in continuation, I may tell you that the
dawn of the first of August opened to us the mountains of Jamaica, and
exhibited a picturesque view of the island, throughout an extent of
thirty miles, as we sailed along the shore. At the part near Port-Morant
we observed the land to be in high cultivation nearly to the water’s
edge. It runs back in undulating ridges to a considerable distance, and
terminates in gigantic hills, which appear from the seaview to thrust
the cultivated fields upon the very brink of the ocean.

Approaching nearer to Port-Royal, a great part of the coast seemed to be
rough and ungenial, neither offering the rich fertility, nor the
exquisite landscapes we had been taught to look for in the island of
Jamaica.

The stupendous range of blue mountains presented an aspect of boldness
and sublimity; but upon carefully viewing the shore, as we passed along,
we thought it much inferior, in point of picturesque effect, to the
delightfully varied, but smaller island of Martinique.

The entrance of Port-Royal harbour, with the view of Kingston, the wide
plain on which it stands, and the towering mountains behind it, might
have appeared very grand and striking, if we had arrived from a less
interesting spot than the bay of St. Pierre; but the recollection of
this eclipsed all the fine scenery before us.

On coming to anchor I went on shore at Port-Royal, in order to make
inquiries respecting a conveyance to Cape St. Nicholas Mole. Upon
stepping out of the boat I found the heat greater than I had felt it, in
any climate, before: indeed the scorching rays reflected from the white
sand, seemed actually to burn my face as I walked along.

Not meeting with any success, I returned to the ship, and quickly
afterwards accompanied the captain and some of the passengers, in a
large open boat with sails, to Kingston. This was a run of seven miles.
From the breeze being strong, and the water rough, we were very early
made to taste the salt sprays of Jamaica; and were more wetted and
tossed about, in this petty passage, than we had been during the whole
of the voyage from Martinique. A great crowd of people thronged about
us, the instant we reached the landing-place, eagerly inquiring for
news, no packet having arrived in the course of the last ten weeks.

The general face of Kingston appeared widely different from the pleasant
town of St. Pierre. It is not so handsome, nor does it so much resemble
the venerable cities of Europe: but it is built with more regard to the
climate; the general plan of it being better adapted to a tropical
country. The streets are spacious. They run in straight lines, crossing
each other at right angles, preserving a regular and uniform figure. The
houses are commodious, and, from not being crowded together, a free
ventilation is every where preserved. They are mostly of brick, but some
are only of wood. They have commonly a shaded gallery or piazza in the
front, or entirely round them, which tends to keep them cool within,
while it affords to the inhabitants, at all times of the day, a pleasant
retreat from the sun. The dwellings have another, and peculiar
convenience in being allowed a sufficiency of land about them for the
purposes of a yard, stabling, offices, outhouses, and the like. But the
streets are the very reverse of the buildings, not yielding any sort of
relief or protection. Being spacious is all they can boast, for they are
deeply covered with loose sand, and are consequently hot, dusty, and
disagreeable in an extreme degree. Those whose lot it is either to walk,
or ride along them have no means of escape from these burning sands,
which serve to convert a large, and otherwise pleasant town into the
semblance of a scorching desert. The piazzas before the houses might
have been easily connected, so as to have formed a continued and shaded
walk throughout the whole of the town; but they are either railed in as
private property, or made irregular and of unequal height, so as to
prevent the pedestrians of these heated streets from availing themselves
of the shelter they offer. Thus the public is deprived of an
accommodation which might be had with facility; and which, in such a
climate, would contribute greatly to the comfort and convenience of
every individual.

Kingston stands upon more ground, and may be said to be larger than St.
Pierre; but the latter is far more populous, and contains perhaps a
greater number of houses. After being accustomed to the gay and crowded
streets of St. Pierre, Kingston has an air of dull quietude: but I am
writing from first impressions, according to the plan I have pursued of
noting circumstances as they occur to my observation; warning you,
therefore, to make all the allowances which such a mode of communication
requires, I proceed to tell you that the few people we meet upon the
streets, appear very different from those of the same classes, whom we
have been accustomed to see at the island we have recently left. Their
dress is not so neat, their manner is less cultivated, and they have not
the same air of cleanliness about them. The common people seem dirty,
and have a loose neglected appearance which is not observable at
Martinique. The people of colour differ, not only from those of the
French colonies, but also from those of the Dutch and English
settlements to windward. They preserve, in a degree, the costume of
their Spanish predecessors. In place of the neat short jacket, or the
white chemise and petticoat worn in the windward colonies, the women of
colour at Kingston are, for the most part, clad in unsightly yellow
petticoats, over which are hung loose and dirty bed-gowns. Upon the head
is commonly a handkerchief of many colours, and far from clean—not put
on with taste, as a turban, but pressed flat down with an ill-looking
kind of man’s hat—the whole forming a very slovenly and unbecoming
dress.

The men, instead of appearing in a neat jacket, or a clean shirt and
pantaloons, as at Martinique, are mostly habited in dirty, ragged
trowsers, with a long shirt, or a kind of loose frock hanging part of
the way over them. Upon mentioning these circumstances to a gentleman of
Kingston, he remarked that this negligent and unseemly costume prevailed
too generally “among the out-door slaves,” but that the house negroes
were far neater, and better ordered.

Indeed you will discover from what I have said of the town, that the
very streets are unfavorable to cleanliness, for the filthy sand soon
spreads itself over every part of a person’s apparel, and becomes
extremely annoying to the eyes and the countenance.

In walking through Kingston I observed an example of slavery unlike any
that had met my eye to windward—sixteen or eighteen negroes linked in a
sort of harness, and forming a regular team, were drawing an immense
trunk of mahogany, conducted by a driver with a cart-whip, who went
whistling at their side, and flogging them on, precisely as an English
carter does his horses. Negroes are also seen working upon the streets,
chained together in pairs. This we are told is established as a mode of
punishment for slight offences and misdemeanors.

These I beg you to regard as only the hasty observations of my first
hours at Jamaica. If I should have an opportunity before we embark for
St. Domingo, I will write again, and forward both letters by the next
packet.

                                                                  Adieu.




                             LETTER XLIII.


                                                        Jamaica, August.

The delay in meeting with a conveyance to St. Domingo has afforded me
the means of seeing more of Jamaica than I had ventured to hope.

On the sixth inst. Mr. Jordan and myself went to visit Spanish Town, or
St. Jago de la Vega, the metropolis of Jamaica. We hired an open chaise,
and availed ourselves of the early part of the morning. The distance
from Kingston is thirteen miles, and the ride uncommonly pleasant, the
road being as good as those in England, and the bordering scenery more
like Europe than any I had before met with in these western settlements.
A toll-gate is established; regular mile-stones mark the approach to the
capital; bridges are built over the brooks and rivulets; carts, waggons,
chaises, and horsemen, are seen passing and repassing; and on each hand
are enclosed fields, with herds of oxen and sheep grazing in fine
pastures.

At the road-side we saw many neat houses; and, dispersed about the
fields, numbers of country villas, some of which were built upon wide
plains, decorated with trees and thorn-bushes like the finely studded
parks of England, the umbrageous branches of the wide-spreading
silk-cotton rivalling the picturesque and sturdy oak: the soft herbage
and refreshing verdure of the English lawns were indeed wanting, but the
arid aspect of the fields was, in a great measure, to be attributed to
the peculiar dryness of the season; which has been so remarkable at
Jamaica, that, while mild rains have produced the greatest fertility,
and richness of appearance in the colonies to windward, this island is
scorched so bare, that, at many of the pens or mountain farms, they have
been compelled either to kill their cattle, or drive them into the
interior, to prevent them from perishing by famine.

We were two hours on the road, and were exceedingly gratified with the
journey. Besides the fields, the plains, the valleys, and the cooling
streams, many stern rocks, and cloud-capped mountains vary the face of
the country, and increase the general interest of the scene.

From the excellent condition of the road, its conveniences and
accommodations, the number of passengers, and the busy traffic, it might
have seemed the approach to a crowded and opulent city; and, compared
with the still coast of Guiana, we might have fancied that we were
advancing to another London: but, such an expectation would have proved
illusory. Instead of handsome streets and magnificent buildings, the
appearance of both was so humble, that when we had arrived in the centre
of Spanish Town we imagined ourselves to be only in the suburbs; St.
Jago de la Vega neither exhibiting the splendour of St. Pierre, nor the
spaciousness of Kingston; nor did the crowd, or business of the place,
at all correspond with the general movement and traffic which we had
observed upon the road.

We took a very indifferent and badly served breakfast at the only tavern
in the place. After resting a short time I waited upon the Governor,
Lord Belcarras, and, at the king’s house, had the good fortune to meet
with Dr. Lind, who had been with us at Barbadoes, and was now appointed,
from the hospital staff of St. Domingo, to the direction of the medical
department in Jamaica.

This gentleman kindly insisted upon taking us under his guidance for the
day; and obligingly devoting his time to our accommodation, he conducted
us to the different parts of the town and its environs, pointing out to
us all that was particularly worthy the attention of strangers.

The general view of the place was strongly calculated to confirm the
opinion we had formed upon entering it: clouded with the dull marks of
its Spanish origin, it might be mistaken for only the fauxbourgs of a
more splendid city. The narrow confined streets look dark and gloomy,
and the older houses are small, low, irregular, and of mean appearance,
consisting only of a single story. Still, although the general face of
the metropolis be not prepossessing, handsome improvements are met with
in various parts of it. The king’s house, the house of assembly, and
public offices, are capacious and ornamental, as is likewise the
main-guard. The portico and statue erected to the memory of Rodney are
also magnificent, and an honor to the island. The horse-barracks form a
handsome pile of building, and are highly commodious for their purpose.
Some of the houses, likewise, at the extremity of the town are spacious,
and of modern structure.

The land in the outskirts of St. Jago de la Vega is barren and
uncultivated, and wears not the rich livery generally bestowed by a
populous city. It appears a wide and dreary waste, overspread with
thorns and bushes, a striking contrast to the luxuriant environs of St.
Pierre, where fields of coffee and sugar, and gardens of rich fruits
overhang the houses and very chimneys of the town, and extend themselves
from the vales and even the summits of the hills quite to the brink of
the ocean.

Near Spanish Town is an extensive flat, which is formed into a course
for the purpose of horse-racing. At a short distance are lofty hills and
pleasant, elevated fields, where many of the inhabitants have small
estates laid out in what are termed _pens_, for the purpose of breeding
and raising sheep, poultry, and the various kinds of stock. At these
pens it is common for the proprietors to have villas or cottages to
serve as country residences, whither they retire to pass the night in a
cool atmosphere, returning to the business of the town in the morning.

As at Kingston, so at St. Jago de la Vega, we met with very few women
who were fairer than mulattoes; and among these the same slovenly figure
and vulgar carriage prevailed, as among the like classes in Kingston. We
expected to have found more of neatness and taste among this order of
people at the seat of government and of fashion; but the dull Spanish
costume was still predominant, with a seeming disregard of cleanliness
and personal adornment.

We returned by moonlight, when the air was delightfully cool, and the
ride pleasanter, if possible, than in the morning; so clear, so bright
and exquisitely soft was the evening, that, upon our arrival near
Kingston, we took the opportunity of lengthening our ride by extending
it about the environs, and were highly gratified in seeing, by this mild
light, the many agreeable villas and improvements near the town.

Since our visit to St. Jago de la Vega we have repeated our walks about
the city and suburbs of Kingston. On the leeward side we found a number
of mean and confined streets, consisting of small houses, occupied by
Jews; and this quarter, like the dwelling-places of that race of people
in the large towns of Europe, is so crowded, filthy, and offensive as to
reflect much disgrace upon the arrangements of the police.

On the same side, at a very short distance out of the town, is also an
extensive burying-ground, which we were told, by a mulatto man whom we
chanced to meet upon the spot, was “for the heathens and the
Christians.” We observed that it was separated by a wide ditch into two
divisions, one of which we understood to be appropriated to the
interment of the soldiers, sailors, and lower classes of whites; the
other to that of the people of colour.

Eastward of the town is an extensive common, in the vicinity of
which, and upon its borders, are built numbers of gentlemen’s
country-houses—most of them very neat, some spacious and handsome.
Here the general appearance of all around was very like what is seen
in Europe. The excellent roads crossing the common at different
parts, the style of the buildings, the manner of fitting them up,
the glazed and sashed windows, the neatly paled gardens, and the
negro houses scattered over the heath like the happy cottages of our
peasantry, all so resembled England that we stood fixed, for a
considerable time, contemplating the scene, when the European
picture was still further heightened by a party of ladies driving
past us in an elegant English carriage. The agreeable coolness of
the evening, in consequence of a heavy shower of rain having fallen
about an hour before, contributed also to the same effect; and,
forgetful of the West Indies, we almost imagined ourselves to be
actually viewing a fine landscape in England.

We made a visit to the church and churchyard, and inspected the dates
upon the tombstones, as an index of the number of days commonly allotted
to the inhabitants of Kingston. In a few instances we observed records
of longevity; but the great majority of persons had been snatched away
in what is usually considered life’s happiest prime.

We observe in our walks about the streets, that in point of richness and
neatness of arrangement, the shops and stores of Kingston are as much
superior to those of St. Pierre, as those of London are to those of
Paris. Perhaps there are few things in which the English more strikingly
out-rival the French than in the art of dressing their windows, and
exhibiting their goods to public view. In Paris the shops are devoid of
that taste and brilliant display which so commonly attracts the eyes of
foreigners in the busy streets of London. A similar distinction prevails
also in the colonies of the two nations: the stores and repositories of
the handsome town of St. Pierre are small and gloomy, while at Kingston
many of them are light and spacious, and dressed out with all the
neatness and splendour of Bond Street or Cheapside.

I have mentioned to you already, that, on my first landing at
Port-Royal, I perceived the heat to be uncommonly powerful; and I may
now add that we find the climate of Kingston hotter than that of
Martinique, Barbadoes, or Demarara, although these colonies are many
degrees nearer the equator. In the shade, at the distance of a hundred
yards only from the water, the thermometer is commonly, at noon, at 86
or 87 of Fahrenheit: between six and seven o’clock, both morning and
evening, it is usually from 80 to 83 degrees.

The mornings are exceedingly oppressive. The sea-breeze, which becomes
very strong in the course of the day, is scarcely perceptible before ten
o’clock, being two hours later than we had been accustomed to have it
upon the coast of Guiana.

The fruits are very superior at Jamaica to those we commonly had in the
windward colonies, and in far greater plenty: the pines and mangoes, in
particular, are of exquisite flavour, and better, beyond all comparison,
than any we met with, either in the Charibbee islands, or at Berbische
and Demarara.

Various kinds of fruits, likewise, are in use here, which we had not
seen in the windward settlements. Among these is the jack-fruit, lately
imported from the East Indies. It is very large, and in form and
substance somewhat resembles a common sort called the soursop, but is of
a different and much superior flavour. If it were possible to convey a
correct idea of it in words, I might perhaps describe it best, by
saying, that it has the taste of a delicious melon, slightly quickened
with the eschalot. Of this production many persons partake with peculiar
gratification, after being accustomed to eat of it; but an acquired
taste is commonly said to be necessary to its full enjoyment.

A regular meat-market is established at Kingston, and so amply supplied,
that beef may be had as plentifully as from the shambles of Leadenhall
or Whitechapel. Turtle is also very abundant, and is among the common
dishes at every gentleman’s table. Some of these animals are of enormous
size. Their shells are used by the negroes for all the common purposes
of baskets and barrows. They carry them upon their heads, filled with
various kinds of wares; and employ them instead of wheelbarrows for
removing dirt and rubbish from the streets.

Although the market provisions are more reasonable, and in greater
plenty than in the windward colonies; and notwithstanding the common
supplies and conveniences are more extensive, and more like those of
Europe, still the superiority seems to be commanded principally, if not
exclusively, by the inhabitants; for, if it were fair to speak from the
limited experience which I have hitherto had, I should be compelled to
admit that the public accommodations of Martinique and Barbadoes are
more satisfactory to a stranger, than those of Jamaica.

A breakfast or dinner may be had for less money at Jamaica, than at
Martinique; but you are better served and attended, and have more of
that indefinable arrangement, which a man feels necessary to his ease
and comfort, in the taverns of Bridge-town and St. Pierre, than in those
of Kingston or Spanish Town.

Private lodgings are far more extravagant at Jamaica than in any other
colony we have visited. For only a very small room it is common to
demand seven or eight dollars per week. Amidst the plenty of provisions,
two bits (10_d._ English) are charged for a pint of milk. The hire of a
saddle-horse per day is three dollars, and of a mean-looking horse and
chaise seven dollars.

I have been sorry to learn, upon conversing with the medical
practitioners of Kingston, that the same uncertainty and indecision
prevail, at Jamaica, regarding the nature of the destructive fever of
the climate, as in the other colonies; and that the difference of
opinion, among the medical men, respecting the treatment of this
formidable disease, displays itself in a manner which adds to the public
fears; and cruelly augments the distress of individuals, who are
attacked with this malignant malady.

Two of the most eminent professional characters of the island having
adopted opinions directly the reverse of each other, many of the
practitioners have enlisted under the opposing banners, and the public,
distracted by the discords of the medical body, is deprived of that
happy confidence which forms so important a consolation in sickness. One
party, considering the fever to be inflammatory, employ venæsection,
relying upon it as a sovereign remedy; the other party, viewing it as a
putrid disorder, have a terror of the lancet, and put their trust in the
Peruvian bark, and other tonic remedies. These discordant opinions
afford the strongest testimony, that, in every attack of disease,
nothing less than a correct discrimination, and an unwearied attention
to all the symptoms and circumstances of each individual case, can be
available towards a successful treatment.




                              LETTER XLIV.


                                         Cape St. Nicholas Mole, August.

Greetings, my friend! We have reached our place of destination, and, in
health and safety, I am, at last, enabled to offer you tidings from St.
Domingo!

Having obtained the promise of a passage with Mr. Donaldson, it was
announced to us on the 8th instant, that all would be ready for sailing
on the morrow; and we left Kingston, in order to sleep on board, that we
might proceed to sea with the morning tide; but after passing a very
comfortless night, we learned that the captain of the sloop had not
arrived; we made our escape therefore from the noise and stench of the
vessel, and went to take our breakfasts at Port-Royal, where we heard
that it was likely we should not sail before the morning of the 10th.

This we hailed as a piece of good fortune, since it offered us an
opportunity of seeing the town of Port-Royal, and the public hospital
there established, together with the dock-yard, forts, and batteries of
this disastrous, but important harbour.

Whilst we were rambling about this awfully-celebrated place, the weather
suddenly changed, and we were strikingly reminded of the melancholy
history of the spot on which we moved. A thick darkness was spread
around; it thundered and lightened; the tearing wind drove the sands and
sprays far into the air; the sea rolled in mountainous tumult; and the
waters rushed from the clouds in tropical torrents. At the same time the
shattered mast of the Thorn sloop of war, which had been lately struck
by lightning in a storm, was lying before us, heightening the effect of
a scene very singularly calculated to impress upon our minds the
disasters which had befallen this unhappy town from the hurricanes and
earthquakes of former days.

In the evening we returned to the sloop, and on the tenth I was apprized
of the morning dawn by the unpleasant motion of the vessel getting under
weigh. It was at an early hour, and the breeze had not set in at
Port-Royal; we were obliged, therefore, to pull out of the harbour, and
some distance up the coast, by means of the sweeps: but, after a short
time, our canvass gradually filled, when the oars were shipped, and we
sailed smoothly along, obtaining a most delightful view of the island.

I now felt myself again upon my long continued and often broken voyage
of voyages to St. Domingo, whither I had been bound from the time of my
quitting London two years ago, when it was expected I should reach this
destination, at the latest, in the course of two or three months.

At daybreak, on the eleventh, the east end of Jamaica appeared in view.
We weathered this point, standing on toward the little island of
Navessah, and the quarter of Jeremie; and the breeze remaining
favorable, we had the prospect of making a quick passage.

A fleet of six small vessels, bound for the port of Jeremie, some of
them well armed, sailed from Jamaica with the same tide as ourselves;
and as this part is commonly infested with swarms of privateers, we were
anxious to continue in company as far as possible; feeling it a security
in case any of the enemy’s vessels should attack us in concert—singly we
had nothing to apprehend from any of them, our sloop mounting twelve
guns, and being stoutly manned.

In the course of the night we were hailed by the Hannibal ship of war,
and the captain learning that Mr. Donaldson was with us, pressingly
solicited him to go on board to drink a glass of wine. He accepted the
invitation, but not without reluctance, on account of the delay it might
occasion. Upon Mr. Donaldson’s stepping into the boat, to make this
visit, I could not but contemplate the wide difference between sailing
in these seas and in the boisterous bay of Biscay; where, for many weeks
in succession, instead of making social excursions upon the ocean, in
open boats at midnight, it had been perilous even for any of the vessels
of the fleet to approach within hail of each other.

On the twelfth we were becalmed, and remained the whole day without
making any progress.

The calm continued on the thirteenth, and the weather became far more
sultry and oppressive, than I had before known it, during my residence
in the West Indies. The sheep, turkies, chickens, pigs, and every living
creature on board, exhibited marks of disquietude, from the excessive
heat, and the total absence of the breeze: even a parrot, a native of
these regions, breathed with open beak, and grew extremely restless in
search of air.

I do not remember ever to have passed a day of such distress. The
languor we suffered amounted almost to annihilation; and no possible
relief could be found.

The vessel was crowded, and the cabin small: below it was dreadfully
hot, close, and suffocating: upon deck the sun’s rays were scorching and
insupportable. No comfort could any where be obtained; whatever part of
the vessel we sought, wheresoever we stationed ourselves, still we felt
the most exhausting prostration; and it only remained to us to lie about
gasping for air, through the unvarying hours of this afflictive day.

The opportunity was peculiarly favorable for ascertaining the greatest
heat of the direct rays of a tropical sun, and at noon, by a
considerable effort, I roused myself from the languor which benumbed me,
and suspended the thermometer to the cordage of the sloop, distant from
the mast, and far above the deck, so placing it as to be fully exposed
to the sun. Thus circumstanced, and after half an hour’s exposure, the
mercury only rose to 96, which, as on many former occasions, I found to
be the greatest mid-day heat in these regions; but we often read of
climates where the thermometer is at 100, 110, or 120 in the shade! This
may possibly be the case in particular situations, such as upon the
burning sands of Egypt, or in the heated streets of a close city; but it
must depend upon locality, and all above must be the effect of condensed
or reflected heat, the direct and open rays never exceeding that degree.
In many houses, and in some towns, the heat is conveyed to a thermometer
from all quarters, as if it were placed in a furnace; and, in such
situations, the mercury will necessarily rise very high; but to give
this as the heat of the climate would be very like stating the heat of a
town from a thermometer put into a baker’s oven.

During great part of the hot and sultry day, of which I am speaking, the
mercury stood at 90 in the shade.

In the evening we felt, as it were, new life, upon a gentle breeze
succeeding to the retiring sun; at night the wind freshened, and our
associate fleet bearing away for the port of Jeremie, we passed that
point of the island, and were left to make the remainder of the passage
alone.

Upon quitting our births on the fourteenth, we learned that there had
been some wind during the night, and that we were standing on, under a
moderate breeze, for the Mole. The morning was beautifully fine, a
milder sun smiled upon our sloop, and she was the only vessel observed
upon the wide circle of the ocean. But before we sat down to breakfast,
we were called from our tranquil prospect, to engage in a hurried and
threatening scene. A strange sail was descried astern, which, upon her
nearer approach, was discovered to be a privateer schooner in full chase
of us.

In the expectation that we might be thus interrupted, Mr. Donaldson,
having been thrice, already, exposed to the miseries of a French prison,
had manned his vessel with a select crew, and was resolved to fight as
long as there was the least hope of saving her.

When all was prepared for action, an appeal was made to the sloop’s
company in a short harangue, and we had the satisfaction to find that
all the men were brave, declaring themselves eager for battle, and
determined to resist to the last extremity.

The enemy’s vessel appearing to be nearly of the same rate as our own,
we expected a warm engagement, but from the spirit displayed by our
crew, we had no apprehension respecting the result. The privateer
outsailed us, and, as she approached nearer and nearer, every one was
anxiously looking out to discover upon which side she would begin the
attack; but, very unexpectedly, when she had reached almost within
gunshot, she suddenly tacked about, and stood away to windward, leaving
us to pursue our course unmolested.

We watched her manœuvres for some time, and seeing that she dropped
astern, as rapidly as she had before gained upon us, all hands went
quietly to breakfast, the sailors muttering their disappointment, at not
having an opportunity of “exchanging a few broadsides!” It was
conjectured, that, upon seeing our preparations, and the number of hands
on board, the privateer had deemed it prudent not to risk an action.

The breeze now grew stronger, and quickly ours was again the only vessel
upon the broad expanse around us. Some points of the island of Cuba soon
opened to our view; but we did not make the Mole so early as the
improving breeze had led us to expect.

In the evening the wind increased to a strong gale; the night became
black and dismal; it was the very midst of the hurricane season; and we
seemed destined to experience all the varieties of calm and tempest.
Loud thunder rolled almost without ceasing, and the broad flashes of
lightning were repeated in such rapid succession, as to produce nearly
the continued brightness of day. The rain afterwards poured down in
torrents, and from our not being able to carry sail, the tearing gusts
of wind tossed our little bark over the broken surface of the ocean,
like an empty cask. Augmented perils now beset us, and the danger of
hurricane was infinitely greater than any we could apprehend from a
hostile vessel. To sleep was impossible, and the hours seemed dreadfully
tedious until morning; when, escaping from the horrors of this gloomy
night, we found ourselves again becalmed, with the mountains of the Mole
in sight on one hand, and the island of Cuba on the other.

The whole day (on the fifteenth) was passed in looking at our place of
destination, without being able to make the slightest approach to it;
our vessel lying like a log upon the still surface of the water. A
breeze sprang up, as usual, in the evening, and we again stood on our
passage, filled with the hope of being at anchor off the Mole by
daylight. On the morning of the sixteenth we found we were still more
distant from the land than we had appeared to be the day before, with
the additional mortification of being again becalmed, and our sails
hanging loose against the mast. Tantalus could scarcely have been more
tormented.

Mr. Donaldson now proposed to me to accompany him on shore in the boat;
and being heartily tired of calms and gales, the sloop and the sea, I
very cordially consented. Four sailors, with the mate and the cockswain,
were accordingly ordered into the boat, and we felt assured of being
quickly at the Mole: but again we were disappointed, having been greatly
deceived in respect to the distance, which, instead of being only three
miles (as it had appeared from the vessel), proved to be more than as
many leagues. When we had advanced beyond the protection of the sloop,
we found that we were far from the batteries of the Mole; and,
consequently, exposed to the danger of being cut off by the boats of the
brigands, which infested this quarter, often venturing to the very mouth
of the harbour.

It was excessively sultry from the absence of the breeze, and we were
scorching under the direct and burning rays of the sun. The sailors were
most cruelly fatigued. One of them became so exhausted, as to let fall
his oar, and if the mate had not promptly taken it up, and encouraged
the other men, by assisting to row us into the harbour, we should have
been reduced to the peril of lying at the mercy of the enemy’s cruisers
until the sloop had overtaken us.

It was between two and three o’clock in the afternoon when we stepped on
shore at the Mole, and, upon the arrival of those we had left, we found
that we had been forwarded only an hour and a half by our hazardous
excursion in the boat; but to me every hour at sea was an age; I
therefore felt the time we had gained a full compensation for all the
toil and danger.




                              LETTER XLV.


                                         Cape St. Nicholas Mole, August.

It were futile, as unnecessary, to attempt describing the sensation I
experienced on finding myself upon the island of St. Domingo. I had for
a long time looked to this colony as a kind of military home, where I
should meet my comrades, overtake my books and baggage, and receive a
packet of letters, which had been nearly two years accumulating, from
many valued friends whom I had left in England.

From the period of joining the expedition, I had been taught to regard
this island as my place of service, and in my wanderings from it, I had
been exposed to many dangers of climate, disease, the enemy, and the
sea. You will feel, therefore, that it was matter of no common
gratification, after so perilous an absence, to arrive in safety at my
station. But, alas! it remains a solitary consolation; for all my
happiest expectations are disappointed! My books and baggage have been
sent away, and captured by the enemy; my letters, which I had so long
contemplated as a rich fund of delight, have, in the despair of my
coming, been returned to England; and my comrades, the companions of my
voyage to these baleful regions, are most of them either dead, or gone
in search of their lost health to milder climates!

The hope that I was soon to meet the friends who had accompanied me from
England, and to read of those whom I had left behind, had constituted my
best support, through all my toils in proceeding toward St. Domingo;
but, now, the spot which I had anticipated as my happiest residence,
offers only disappointment and sorrow. In my round of duty I shall have
to tread the very steps which have led to the melancholy fate of my
comrades, exposed to the additional affliction of daily passing their
graves.

Your heart will swell with sympathy when you read that my esteemed
friend, Dr. Cleghorn, fell an early victim to the cruel ravager of
European vigour; that my colleagues, Weir, Fellowes, Henderson, and
Carroll, have all returned to England, exhausted by disease; and that my
respected comrade, Dr. Master, was embarking at the very moment of my
arrival, in an almost hopeless state of sickness, for the more temperate
region of North America. Fortunately, the vessel did not sail at the
time appointed; my friend availed himself, therefore, of the opportunity
to return on shore, and we passed a few hours together before he finally
took his departure. To you, who can duly estimate such hours, I need not
say how highly they were appreciated: they were dear to my feelings, and
will ever be hallowed in my remembrance[9].

Having thus lost my friend Master the day after my arrival, and Gen.
Whyte, Col. Grant, Dr. Jackson, &c. having taken up their quarters at
Port au Prince, I find myself amidst a body of strangers, feeling, as it
were, unknown and alone; with the further intimation that I am, already,
left in the island the only physician, of the six who were appointed for
St. Domingo, upon the late great expedition to the western colonies.

In the absence of Mr. Weir, the direction of the medical department
devolves upon Dr. Jackson; but, as he is stationed at head-quarters, I
find the hospitals at the Mole under the immediate control of Dr. Scott,
who has obligingly accompanied me to wait upon Col. Stuart, the military
commandant, and Sir Hyde Parker, the commander in chief of the naval
department; yet I cannot feel that I have decidedly joined the staff, or
that I am officially upon duty at St. Domingo, until I shall have had an
opportunity of reporting myself, at head-quarters, to my friend Gen.
Whyte, who has succeeded to the chief command of the troops. For this
purpose, therefore, I am preparing to make another sea voyage, and shall
embark in the course of a few days for Port au Prince.

Of the Mole I have nothing very interesting to note. It is a valuable
port on account of its safe and commodious harbour for shipping; but
neither the town, nor the country around it, presents any richness or
beauty. The scenery consists of rude and barren mountains, with confined
valleys and narrow heated gullies. The town is built at the edge of the
water, upon a hot and sandy soil; the houses, as is usual in this
climate, are of wood, and exhibit more of convenience than elegance of
structure; some of them are provided with piazzas in front; but, as in
the other towns of the West Indies, they are less general than might be
expected.

Behind the town, in a kind of amphitheatre about it, the rough and
steril land rises into huge mountains; upon the sides of which, and upon
the smaller eminences, have been erected block-houses, which form a
chain of defensive posts, and serve to cover the place, while they
strengthen the general position, rendering it, in a great degree, secure
against the unpractised enemy, with whom we have to contend, although
they might constitute but a feeble barrier against a more disciplined
army of Europeans. At the lower extremity, beyond the streets, is a
formidable battery, commanding the entrance of the harbour; and upon
some hills, separated by a narrow gully from the upper part of the town,
have been erected several of the temporary hospitals brought out from
England, in which the sick are very commodiously accommodated.

These receptacles of disease are far from being tenanted in the same
proportion, at present, as for several months past, during which time
the fever raged here with accumulated fury, spreading dreadful havoc and
destruction among the troops.

A convenient and spacious house, situated in an open square at the best
part of the Mole, is allotted as the quarters of the person appointed to
superintend the hospital department. Since the departure of Mr. Weir,
this has been occupied by Doctors Scott and Master; and I have, now, at
once the fortunate and melancholy lot of succeeding to the apartment
lately occupied by the latter.

A mess is established for the medical officers; and, considering the
scarcity of fresh provisions at this place, it may be said to be well
supplied.

Saltpork, pease-soup, rice, and the vegetables of the country being in
plenty, constitute very useful standing dishes, and the table is seldom
without some addition of fish, poultry, or other fresh animal food.

From the territory immediately round the Mole being in possession of the
enemy, or, to use the more common term, the brigands, stock and other
provisions cannot be procured from the country estates or plantations,
as in the other colonies; the supply therefore depends chiefly on North
America; and in the failure of vessels arriving from the United States,
with stock on board, fresh provisions become extravagantly dear,
insomuch that at times sixteen or eighteen dollars have been paid for a
turkey, ten for a couple of ducks, and six or eight for a pair of
chickens.

Of fruit the quantity is also very limited; the most plentiful are
melons, grapes, and figs: pines, mangoes, shaddocks, and many other
species, which we have been accustomed to meet with in the other
islands, are here very scarce.

In the dry and sandy valley which separates the town from the hills,
whereon the hospitals are erected, means have been taken to raise
vegetables for the use of the sick; and the success of the attempt
displays, very amply, how much may be effected, in this climate, by
culture even of the most arid and seemingly barren soil. By the aid of a
small current of water, a mere gully of sand is converted into a
prolific garden.

The vegetable world, in these regions, is in a high degree obedient to
control, and the abundance and rapidity with which the growth of plants
may be called forth, by only slight attention to the land, is really
surprising. The labour employed is very liberally rewarded, for the most
steril spots, gratefully responsive to the care bestowed upon them,
grant to industry a generous return.




                              LETTER XLVI.


                                                 Port au Prince, August.

My voyage from the Mole to this place was attended with the usual
vexations and uncertainties of sea travelling. Wishing to proceed to
Port au Prince, I thought myself fortunate in learning that a small
fleet of American traders was about to sail for that place, and lost no
time in securing a passage on board the Lion, one of our armed ships,
which was going as convoy. Owing to erroneous information, respecting
the time of sailing, I was left on shore without my baggage, and was
under the necessity of pressing a boat with four negroes to carry me
after the fleet, which we overtook with much difficulty and exertion.
Two frigates, going upon a cruise, left the Mole at the same time as the
convoy: but they soon shot a-head of it, leaving nine American
merchantmen to the protection of the Lion. The breeze continued until
evening, when, as commonly occurs at this season, it was succeeded by a
calm, and we remained fixed upon the ocean, at only a short distance
from the land, and near to a post occupied by the brigands.

My sleeping-birth happened unluckily to be in a confined part of the
cabin, where I was not only deprived of air, but nauseated by the smell
of the ship, and cruelly bitten by swarms of cockroaches and musquitoes.
Rest was denied me, and from the extreme heat my whole surface was
immersed in a deep bath of perspiration. I had before passed many close
and oppressive nights; but it had never been my lot to feel any one so
entirely comfortless and distressing as this: to move was an exhausting
fatigue, and to lie still was equally insupportable.

I made my escape from this wretched birth early in the morning, and
removed all my uneasy feelings by the pleasant exchange of a hot bath
for a cold one. It was a calm, and we passed an idle day, lying with our
little fleet collected in a narrow circle upon the unmoved surface of
the ocean.

The cabin party consisted of Captain Lloyd, of the 66th regiment,
Messrs. Stewart, Hastie, and Claypole, three or four French gentlemen,
as many American masters of ships, and two French ladies. The Lion had
lately been employed to convoy some American vessels to the river
Delaware; and a number of convalescents from the hospitals had been
placed on board for the benefit of the passage. After lying six weeks at
Philadelphia, she returned to St. Domingo, with another convoy of
American traders, and reached the Mole only a day or two previous to my
arrival at that place from Jamaica. Including the six weeks passed at
anchor in the Delaware, they had been absent four months, during which
time three of the soldiers had died, and two had deserted. The others
being still on board, I took the opportunity, during the calm of the
first evening of our passage, of requesting Captain Lloyd to have them
mustered upon deck, in order that I might ascertain in what degree they
had benefited by the voyage. Mr. Beaumont, apothecary to the forces, who
had been appointed to attend them down to the coast of America,
furnished me with the history of their cases, and assisted in the
inspection; but I was sorry to discover that they had not experienced so
much advantage from the change of climate as might have been expected. A
few had recovered, but considerable numbers were still in only a feeble
state of convalescence.

When bed-time returned, I avoided the ills of the preceding night by
spreading my mattress upon the table, in the middle of the cabin,
directly under the open hatchway, and afterwards made that my place of
repose every night during the passage.

On the 22d the calm continued, and I had the mortification to learn, not
only that we were in the precise meridian (as well as the high season)
of heat and still water, but that, notwithstanding the distance is
barely thirty leagues, vessels were sometimes more than forty days
making the passage from the Mole to Port au Prince.

Unable to advance on our voyage, we spent the day in walking upon deck,
and looking over the popular works of an American author, who, at this
time, attracts much notice in Philadelphia and throughout the United
States. He publishes under the fictitious name of Peter Porcupine, and
is zealously occupied in shooting his quills against the abettors of the
French revolution, endeavouring to show the danger of Gallic influence
in America, and exposing the frightful horrors committed by the various
factions of republican France. Thus he may be regarded as pleading the
cause of Britain with that of the United States. Much acuteness and
discernment, with great boldness of expression, are displayed in these
publications; but they betray a coarseness of language and of personal
invective, which would not be tolerated in England[10].

Upon quitting my table couch on the morning of the 23d, I found the
convoy had made some way upon the passage, and was very near to the
shore, with the island of Gonave on the right, and the high land about
Port au Prince appearing far a-head. But the gentle wind of the night
had died away, and we were again becalmed. In this situation a brigand
boat came from the coast, and hovered round our little fleet, with the
design of cutting off any defenceless vessel that might be lying beyond
the reach of the armed ship; but the convoy being assembled close about
the protecting “Lion,” the enemy deemed it prudent not to hazard a
nearer approach.

In the afternoon a slight breeze enabled us to proceed; but it again
ceased, early in the evening, and we came to anchor for the night close
under the shore, not far from Arcahaye, a post possessed by our troops.
A fine valley or plain was seen near this place, as we drew towards the
land; and from appearing peculiarly fertile, afforded a striking
contrast to the rugged and uncultivated coast which had been constantly
before us, from the time of our first making the island of St. Domingo.

The many delays of this tranquil, but interrupted passage afforded me
repeated opportunities of hearing remarks upon the colony of St.
Domingo, and of witnessing traits of French character. The ladies, and
some of the gentlemen, were either natives, or residents of the
settlement; others were more recently from France; and by conversing
with them, and attending to their frequent debates with each other, I
was both amused and instructed, although at times exceedingly disgusted.

Our passengers of the fair sex proved themselves upon all occasions to
be truly French. They commented upon the figure, shape, and tournure of
the human body, its secretions and excretions, and the various functions
of its different organs, with a freedom that betrayed more of ease, than
delicacy; and, to the surprise of the English part of the company, they
conversed with the gentlemen upon these subjects, without the slightest
reserve.

The French pique themselves upon their refinement, and regard the
British as abrupt and unpolished; yet, I may venture to assert, that
there is not a decent female in England, however slightly educated, who
would not think her feelings outraged by the coarse expressions and
equivocal innuendoes which are used in the conversation of all orders of
the softer sex in France.

That amiable diffidence, which so eminently distinguishes the delicate
females of our island, and is too commonly termed mauvaise honte, is
often the genuine effect of modesty; and, whether it be the result of
education, or of natural feeling, no Englishman, I suspect, would wish
to see it removed from the minds of his fair countrywomen, or to have it
exchanged for the unblushing confidence of French familiarity: I am
Gothic enough to regard many of the refinements of our Gallic
neighbours, as indecent and unbecoming, and my English feelings often
lead me to think the conversation of French ladies such as ought never
to escape from female lips[11].

Among other topics, we were frequently amused with warm debates, between
the ladies and the French gentlemen, respecting the advantages possessed
by the coloured belles of Cape François, compared with those of Port au
Prince, from which it seemed that those of the Cape were most splendid
in their dress and equipage, and shared more of the riches of their
opulent lords; but that those of Port au Prince outrivalled them in
beauty and gracefulness of form; yet, it was allowed by all parties,
that with respect to person, the females of Guadaloupe and Martinique
were very superior to both.

Soon after we had come to anchor this evening, an officer was sent on
board from the port of Arcahaye, to ascertain what convoy it was, and to
learn the news from the Mole; and early on the morning of the 24th we
were hailed by the Kingston armed ship, which was stationed at Arcahaye,
for the purpose of cruising in the bight to protect the merchantmen
against the brigands of an adjoining port, whence boats are frequently
sent out to cut off any unarmed ships or stragglers from convoys; and so
adventurous are the crews of these hostile barks, particularly in calm
weather, that our traders maintain their safety only by the most strict
watchfulness; but notwithstanding every care, it sometimes happens that
a party of brigands will row up in an open boat, and board the outermost
vessel of a convoy, plunder her of every thing valuable, then take out
her hands and set fire to her, while the protecting ship is prevented by
the calm from getting within gunshot of the marauder.

About noon the wind came round from the west, and we were enabled to
stand on our course, seeing the town of Port au Prince directly a-head,
and expecting that we should complete our voyage at an early hour of the
evening; but when we had reached within two leagues of the town, and
were nearly under cover of our own batteries on the shore, a heavy storm
from the east drove us back, compelling us to stand away for the
opposite coast, where we came to anchor, near the spot whence we had
sailed in the morning. Two of the schooners beat against the storm, and
went into the harbour of Port au Prince. Our ship would likewise have
gone in, had it not been necessary to remain for the purpose of giving
protection to the heavy-sailing vessels of the convoy.

Previous to being driven back, we had advanced near enough to see
distinctly the houses of Port au Prince, with the ships in the harbour,
and one of the forts on the shore; we saw likewise, at only a short
distance from the town, the out-posts of our troops, and of the
brigands, within sight of each other, separated by a plain, which was
formerly planted with sugar, but has been converted by the flames of the
revolution into a barren waste.

On the 25th, soon after noon, we had a brisk wind from a favorable
point, and quickly sailed into harbour, when I most gladly hastened on
shore in the boat with the captain, without waiting for the ship to let
go her anchor.

After all my wanderings to find myself at the head-quarters of the army,
to which I had been originally appointed, was matter of sincere
gratification to me, particularly when I recollected the many perils and
dangers with which I had been menaced since the time of my embarkation
from Portsmouth. In coming from Demarara only, the passage had been made
in four hazardous divisions, and performed upon seas peculiarly infested
with hostile cruisers. Some of the voyages had been effected, likewise,
amidst the hurricane season of the year.

I proceeded without delay to the government-house, to pay my respects to
the commander in chief, General Whyte, who, by his cordial reception,
kindly evinced that his recollection of me was not impaired by a long
separation. After resting myself for some time, and being honored with
the friendly assurances of the General, he very obligingly desired his
nephew to conduct me to the quarters of Dr. Jackson, the acting director
of hospitals. The Doctor was from home, but on his return, I was
speedily provided, by his kind assistance, with excellent quarters for
the night, where I found a spacious room, an ample supply of provisions,
and a bathing-tub with plenty of cold water; which is always the
greatest luxury to a wearied traveller just escaped from the noisome
birth of a crowded ship.




                             LETTER XLVII.


                                             Port au Prince, Sept. 1797.

At an early hour on the morning after my arrival at Port au Prince, I
was roused by the sound of martial music, and upon looking out from my
bed-room window was struck with a general display of military movement:
the whole square and all the streets within reach of the eye presented a
very animated scene; bodies of troops of various nations and hues,
negroes, hussars, British and foreign infantry and cavalry, were
assembled, with halberts, sabres, bayonets and firelocks glittering in
the sun; colours waving in the air; officers and dragoons galloping
through the streets; bands playing, drums beating, and all around
uniting in the busy clamour of an active military station: every thing
bore a warlike aspect, all was in motion, and the general appearance
evinced that the enemy was at the gate.

At breakfast-time I was visited by Dr. Jackson, who afterwards
accompanied me in search of my baggage; and having procured it, he
conducted me to his quarters, requesting that I would take up my abode
with him during my stay at Port au Prince.

A vacant chamber was accordingly allotted me, in which were placed my
mattress, a small deal table, and a single wooden chair. I have ever
since been an inmate of the Doctor’s quiet dwelling. My room is at the
back part of the house; it is still and private; the window opens into a
small garden, and all is so tranquil, that instead of feeling myself to
be in a large town, and at the head-quarters of the army, I might fancy
that I am placed amidst the seclusion of a country village.

When I entered the house in the evening, all within was silent; and the
Doctor had retired to his contemplations. I was struck with the
stillness and unornamented appearance of the habitation. An impressive
gloom overspread the entrance-chamber; a jug of limpid element stood on
the table; the floor was of brick, the furniture of the plainest order;
and a single female attendant constituted the whole domestic
establishment. Being conducted to my bed-room, I gazed at the naked
simplicity of my couch and all around it—viewed the bare roof and wooden
walls—looked at the sable Leonora, and could have fancied myself in
Penruddock’s cottage upon the heath, had not the warlike indications
without, reminded me that, instead of the solitary abode of a peaceful
philosopher, fortune had thrown me into the tranquil barrack of a
philosophical soldier.

The mode of life observed by my esteemed and learned comrade, in this
perilous climate, affords a striking example of the benefits to be
derived from abstemiousness and well-regulated habits. Ardent in the
pursuit of knowledge, and actuated by amiable and philanthropic
feelings, Dr. Jackson is industrious, and even laborious, in the
execution of his duty. Zealous to procure every possible relief for the
sick, and to obtain extensive and precise information concerning the
disease which has raged so fatally among the troops, he spares no
personal toil. Long accustomed to combine military habits with literary
pursuits, he supports self-privations without regarding the endurance of
them as a hardship. His wants are limited by his necessities; and he
concerns not himself about luxuries, or indulgences. Vegetables are his
food, water is his drink, and a bare hammock his resting-place.
Disencumbered of all superfluities, he takes the exercise of much daily
walking, preserves his health and strength, and is free to march,
whenever the service demands it.

You will conclude that our conversations are often directed to the
subject of yellow fever; and as you always express yourself anxious
regarding this direful scourge of our army, I may tell you that my
opinion, as expressed to you from Guiana, respecting the nature of this
disorder, is sanctioned by that of my intelligent and accurate friend;
and as our inquiries made at so great a distance, and without any
communication with each other, have led to similar conclusions, I have
much satisfaction in finding my remarks confirmed by those of so able
and correct an observer. Dr. Jackson views the disease as only a
modification or very high degree of the common fever of the country. He
remarks that “it is frequently attended with remissions,” and that if he
be called to the patient “at an early stage of the complaint,” he has
the power in most cases “of changing its type, and can often convert it
into a regular remittent.” He regards early venæsection as a sovereign
remedy, and esteems it important to the cure, that the quantity drawn at
the first bleeding should be ample.

I learn with much sorrow, that the fever has been even more fatal here,
than in the windward colonies; but of late, as in Guiana and the
Charibbee Islands, its malignity has abated, and the proportion of sick
is, at this moment, very considerably less than it was, during the
twelve months immediately subsequent to the arrival of the army; nor is
this simply an appearance consequent upon the diminished number of
troops; the disease is actually milder in its form, and the men, from
becoming seasoned to the climate, are less subject to its invasion: in
proof of which I may remark, that the greater part of those who are now
sick, are suffering from the chronic remains of former malady, and not
from any recent attack of the fever.

Since the chief direction has devolved upon my zealous and active
colleague, Dr. Jackson, the arrangements of the department have been
new-modelled; general hospitals have been done away, and all the sick
are received into the hospitals of their respective regiments; the
officers of the medical staff being employed only in the occasional
duties of superintendence and inspection.

Like every other regulation projected by my esteemed comrade, this is
intended for the benefit of the service; and during a period when the
troops are stationary, and the sick but few in number, they may,
probably, be accommodated in this manner with convenience, and at a
considerably less expense to government than in general hospitals, since
the higher rate of stoppages, taken from the men in sickness, may
suffice to provide all the necessaries for them, whilst they are under
recovery. But in a time of active service, when the troops are exposed
to frequent and rapid movements, when the sick list is very numerous, or
when any epidemic, or malignant disorder prevails, it is impossible that
justice can be done to the sick upon this system, or that it can be
continued with any advantage to the service. An important objection
against this alteration is, that it deprives the staff officers of all
their professional employment, rendering them mere inspectors of
regimental hospitals, while it supposes the youngest surgeons of
battalions, and even the assistants, who have seen no service whatever,
to be equally competent to prescribing, in all cases of disease, as the
most experienced physicians and surgeons of the army.

Together with Dr. Jackson, and some other officers of the medical staff,
I have been lately employed upon a board of inspection, to visit all the
hospitals at Port au Prince, in order to ascertain what number of
patients might be invalided, on account of not being likely to recover
in this climate; and I am sorry to add, that we have been obliged to
mark a long list of sufferers, whom we have thought it advisable to send
to England for the chance of regaining their health; for, although the
yellow fever is less prevalent, dysentery and other visceral
derangements, low fever, extreme debility and atrophy present themselves
too generally as the distressing sequels of long-continued heat and
disease.

The officers of the hospital staff now at Port au Prince, are, I
believe, unanimously of opinion, that the safest and best remedy in the
yellow fever is early venæsection, and they have multitudes of cases in
proof of its efficacy; one more than commonly striking occurred among
the troops of the Dutch or foreign artillery. A party of this corps,
amounting in number to ninety-six, arrived at Port au Prince on the 10th
of August last, having reached the West Indies from Europe, in the month
of July preceding; very soon after their arrival at this place, many of
them were attacked with fever, but as they happened to be immediately
under the eye of the gentlemen of the hospital staff, venæsection was
freely employed in the earliest hours of the disease. During the course
of a month only one man died: and it is remarkable that he had been
detained from the hospital until the second or third day after the
attack.

This is a strong example of the high utility of early bleeding, and it
is much strengthened by an additional fact related to me by Mr. Young,
who although not a medical practitioner, is a very intelligent and
accurate observer. The ship which brought this division of the artillery
was the Bangalore: she arrived with all the troops in perfect health,
and with her ship’s company, consisting of the captain and twenty-three
men, as well as they had been in Europe; but within the month from the
10th of August to the 10th of September, eight of the sailors and the
captain had died of the seasoning fever. These unfortunate people had
not the same medical attendants as the soldiers; but the captain being
particularly careful of his men, sent them on shore to the house of an
experienced French nurse, the moment any symptoms of disease were
manifested, in order that they might, under her care, be regularly
attended by a medical practitioner of the town. Unhappily this gentleman
was not of opinion that bleeding was the most efficacious treatment;
and, therefore, according to his judgment, employed other means; the
result very lamentably evinces which mode of practice was best advised.
Of the sailors, more than one third had died within the short period of
a month. Of the soldiers, although a greater number had suffered the
disease, only one of ninety-six had been lost within the same period;
the disproportion is frightful, and becomes melancholy, when we reflect
that it must have arisen in a great degree from the difference of
professional treatment! The unfortunate captain of the Bangalore was
seized on the Saturday, and died on the Monday following.




                             LETTER XLVIII.


                                             Port au Prince, Sept. 1797.

Seeing, by the map, that I am removed to a station many degrees more
distant from the equator, you will not expect that I should find the
heat greater at St. Domingo, than I had felt it at Demarara; but it has
been remarkable that the temperature has risen progressively as we have
proceeded further to the north. At Martinique it was hotter than in the
colonies of Guiana: at Jamaica the heat was more intense than at
Martinique; and, at St. Domingo, the mercury is higher than it was in
Jamaica.

From the bare statement of this fact, it might seem to be at variance
with a great general law of nature; but, upon a closer view, it is found
to proceed entirely from situation, and other local causes. The
settlements, upon the coast of South America, are formed of an extended
flat surface of land, at the border of the sea; the towns being small
and open, and not crowded: while, in the islands, the free current of
air is interrupted by woods and mountains; and the towns, which are
closer built, with narrower streets, and a more crowded population, are
most unwisely placed under hills, or lofty promontories, where both the
direct and reflected rays of the sun are concentrated as in a furnace;
or they are erected at the confines of the deepest bays, whither the
refreshing breeze can seldom penetrate. Hence you will perceive how it
may readily occur as a mere effect of situation, that the temperature
should be higher here, than in places nearer the equator.

In the colonies of Demarara and Berbische, at only six or seven degrees
of north latitude, the heat, at noon, in the shade, very rarely exceeds
86°: at Martinique, I seldom saw the thermometer above 88°: in the shade
of sandy Kingston, at Jamaica, it rose sometimes to 90°: and, at Port au
Prince in St. Domingo, about 19° north latitude, it is often as high as
93°. But, here, many of the common causes of increased temperature are
strongly combined, while in the colonies of Guiana there are neither
rocks, nor hills, nor deep bays, but the broad surface is open to the
full influence of the breeze, besides being spread with a luxuriant
verdure, and intersected with canals, and wide ditches of water.

At Demarara, the heat of my bed-room, during the night, seldom exceeded
76°. Here I sleep in a climate of 83°; and feel very sensibly chilled if
the thermometer fall as low as 75°. Only a few days ago I sat down to
write, without particularly noticing the heat of the room, and, upon
finding myself unable to proceed, in consequence of an unusual flow of
perspiration falling upon the paper, from the back of my hand, I looked
at the thermometer and found the mercury at 96°. I removed, without
delay, into a cooler part of the house, but, in the course of a few
minutes, was attacked with severe head-ach, and excessive thirst; my
face became flushed; and, for a short time, my skin felt dry and
parched. Perhaps, in a person newly arrived in these latitudes, or in
one of a different habit of body, these symptoms would have constituted
an accession of fever, which, in the course of twenty or thirty hours,
might have proved fatal.

We have been exceedingly inconvenienced lately by a dry land-wind, from
the east, which was equally parching, as the distressing siroc of the
hot regions of the old continent, and induced, very generally, the
painful symptoms of influenza. Almost every person was heard sneezing as
he walked along the streets. I was seized with great severity—my head,
eyes, nose and throat, were in pain, and the air, as it passed into the
lungs, felt hot and dry, irritating the membrane of the nose to an
excessive degree. The attack was sudden—its effects continued three or
four days, when, upon the wind changing, and the refreshing breeze
returning, the malady rapidly dissolved away, in the defluxion of common
catarrh. Whites and blacks, and persons of all the different shades of
colour, were alike afflicted.

During these days of suffering the thermometer, in my room, was at 82°
in the morning, from 93° to 95° at noon, and 84° in the evening.

In selecting situations for establishing the towns in this climate, as
in most others, the preservation of health has been less considered than
the convenience of commerce. The French colonists appear to have been
more solicitous regarding the supply of water, than respecting the
temperature, or purity of the air. At Port au Prince, large sums of
money have been expended to convey water to the town, by means of
aqueducts from the rivers. Several large fountains have been erected,
which afford an ample portion for household uses: open courses have also
been constructed for the purpose of conducting small streams through the
different streets: but these, not flowing rapidly, like those in the
town of St. Pierre, are apt to grow stagnant and dirty, insomuch that
they frequently become foul ditches. A further evil is likewise felt,
from the deficiency of current; for Port au Prince, like St. Pierre and
old Edinburgh, offers not the convenience of certain appendages to the
houses, which, in England, are esteemed as indispensable as chimnies;
but the odoriferous riches are consigned to the open channels of the
streets, rendering them receptacles which cause no small annoyance to
our unpractised olfactories.

Horses and mules appear to be more commonly employed for the purposes of
labour, at Port au Prince, than at any place I have yet seen in the West
Indies. Corn, Guinea grass, cane-tops, &c. &c. are drawn about in small
carts by five mules harnessed abreast, and driven by a negro mounted
upon the top of the load. This is an unseemly manner of guiding the
team; but it is pleasing to find the slaves thus relieved from much of
their heaviest toil. Kittarines[12], and horses for pleasure, are less
in use, than in Jamaica; nor do we here observe the same marks of
opulence and splendour, which display themselves among the inhabitants
of Kingston: villas, pens, and country-houses, at a short distance from
the town, are far less numerous. The merchants do not leave their
dwellings, and retire to the country at night, but content themselves
with a single establishment, making the house of business their constant
and only place of residence.

Dancing, gaming, and the common round of amusements, are more prevalent
than in the English colonies, and pursued with greater avidity. The
French have a strong passion for play, and would be as dissatisfied
without the gaming-table, as an Englishman without his newspaper. It
forms a species of intrigue, in which they have the gratification of
imagining themselves to outwit each other. Without intrigue of some sort
they would be overwhelmed with ennui: give them plays, dancing, and the
gaming-table, and they care very little about liberty and equality:
deprive them of their amusements,—do away the intrigue of the table, and
they will cabal in politics; or run into other wild excesses.

This disposition for gaming has been turned, in some measure, to an
useful account, by converting it into a source of revenue to the
government. It will surprise you to learn, that the proprietors of one
of these banks, in Port au Prince, pay the enormous tax of eight hundred
dollars per month, for the license to keep a table; besides sixteen joes
per day, as rent to the owner of the house, who, for this sum, engages
also to provide the attending multitude with porter, wine, and other
refreshments. What must be their profits to enable them to support such
an expenditure? The scene which presents itself at these crowded places
of resort is equally surprising and afflicting. The anxious throng,
pressing round the table, breathe a noxious atmosphere, in a heat almost
equal to that of an oven; but, alike insensible to the destructive
temperature about them, and the streams of perspiration in which their
persons are dissolving, their anxious countenances betray only the
passions induced by this unhappy pursuit: joy, disappointment, and
despair appear, in all their various shades, amidst the crowd, each
painted in rapid succession upon the same brow. Only a few evenings ago,
a Frenchman committed suicide, in consequence of having lost all his
property, at this infatuating table. This too common effect of gaming is
said to happen less frequently among the French, than among the people
of other nations. Upon the volatile character of Frenchmen, misfortune
makes only a slight impression: their vanity, which they seek to dignify
with the character of philosophy, shields them from despair. It is not
uncommon to hear them boast of their fortitude in supporting evils,
which would cause an Englishman to put a pistol to his head: but their
wants are fewer than his, and more easily supplied: they have more
resources; and can more readily submit to the humble means of regaining
their comforts: besides which, their sentiments of dignity and
consequence are, perhaps, less chaste and elevated—whence they have not
to contend against so great a host of strong and wounded feelings.

Next to the love of gaming, which we observe among the inhabitants of
this place, may be classed their fondness for dress and dancing. In
foppery, the young and the aged of St. Domingo imitate their brethren of
Paris. At Port au Prince they have a public place of amusement, termed
Vauxhall; where they assemble in as great crowds as at the
gaming-houses, and notwithstanding the heat of climate, they often dance
throughout the night. The mixed assemblage, seen at this place of
evening resort, is sometimes highly ludicrous. Frivolity and conceit
here prevail in their most conspicuous colours. The women appear in a
strange variety of glaring and fantastic apparel; which, intermixed with
the different costumes of the military, and the whimsical dresses of the
other inhabitants, gives a most gay and tawdry appearance to the group.

Officers in splendid uniforms, exhibiting all the airs of full-bred
petits-maitres, are seen tripping about with high turbaned belles in
gaudy many-coloured dresses; while others of the men appear in long
surtouts, or cotton coats, hanging down to their heels: some pretty
youths are laced up like mummies; others, affecting the fierce warrior,
tread the mazy dance in heavy boots and spurs, occasionally with their
sabres at their sides, and not unfrequently without taking off their
hats. The trifling airs, and apish tricks of the greater part of them,
are calculated to excite only sentiments of ridicule: but an Englishman
cannot behold a robust hussar figuring up and down in weighty boots and
spurs, bearing a ponderous sabre in one hand, with a small fan to cool
his gentle person in the other, and playing off all the insignificancy
of a fop, without feeling a glow of indignation and disgust.




                              LETTER XLIX.


                                                         Port au Prince.

Having been at Port an Prince a sufficient time to make my usual
promenade of the city and its environs, you will expect a more
particular description of the place, than I have hitherto sent you. It
is a large town, built most unwisely, upon an ill-chosen spot, below a
range of white calcareous rocks, at the embouchure of an extensive
valley, and on the very edge of the water, at the extremity of a deep
bay of the sea, combining many great evils—such as receiving all the
filthy drainings of the valley, and exuviæ of the ocean, being shut from
the purifying sea-breeze, and exposed to the utmost ardour of the
condensed, and also the reflected rays of the sun.

In form, Port au Prince much resembles Kingston in Jamaica; the streets
being spacious and placed at right angles; but it is not so handsome a
town, the houses being small, and the shops fitted up with less
attention to neatness and decoration. As is common in the West Indies,
the houses are built of wood, and covered with shingles: in general they
consist of only a single story with piazzas in front; but these, like
those at Kingston, are so constructed as to drive the dissolving
pedestrian under the broad surface of a scorching sun, instead of
affording him the protecting shade which the climate renders so highly
needful.

Some of the streets are improved by a partial pavement; but the others
are deep in dust and sand. The upper part of the town is hilly, from
being extended along the side of the rock; but the lower part stands
near the water, upon a soil so loose and swampy, that it was necessary
to drive pillars of wood into the earth in order to form a secure
foundation for the buildings. Although it is very inferior to St. Pierre
or Kingston, Port au Prince has the advantage of several large squares;
also of open spaces, behind the houses, for out-offices, and, in many
instances, for small gardens.

The only edifice, offering any claim to particular notice, is the
government-house, which, although plain, is one of the handsomest, and
most substantial structures that I have seen in the West Indies. If not
a palace, it is a spacious and convenient dwelling, and well planned
with regard to the climate. It is a distinct building erected at the
upper end of a large square, commanding the grand parade and the streets
branching from thence into the town: the entrance is by a flight of
steps, leading into a wide piazza, which opens into a large
anti-chamber, connecting with the inner rooms. By this construction the
different apartments are well ventilated, and kept so pleasantly cool,
that the temperature of this house is found to be considerably below the
common standard of heat in the town.

At Port au Prince, as at St. Pierre, it is usual to have baths annexed
to the dwellings: bathing, in this climate, as well as in Europe, being
a comfort which is far better understood, and more generally adopted, by
the French, than by the English.

Notwithstanding the military throng now in this place, Port au Prince
has not the appearance of being so populous as St. Pierre. The same busy
commerce does not prevail; nor are the streets crowded with such hosts
of females, as were seen at the pleasant capital of Martinique. The
higher orders of the women of colour (for distinctions exist even among
the descendants of slaves) are neither so numerous, nor so handsome as
those of Martinique. They are also less dignified in their carriage, and
display less taste in the arts of the toilette; preserving more the air
of the same classes seen upon the streets of Kingston. In cleanliness of
person and apparel the women of Martinique have likewise greatly the
advantage; so that, after witnessing the style and fashion of St.
Pierre, all, in this place, seems humble and inelegant.

We had been taught to expect, that we should meet with a distressing
scarcity of fresh provisions at St. Domingo, having heard that our
comrades were paying so exorbitantly for them, as I mentioned to you
from the Mole; but we find that, owing to a tolerable supply having been
received by the American ships, this period of high extravagance has
passed away, and provisions, if not more plentiful, may be had at a rate
more reasonable than at Martinique.

Dr. Jackson and myself have a general invitation to the dinner-table of
the commander in chief and his staff. When we are not at the
government-house, we dine at a French table d’hôte in the town. The
tavern dinners are not in general so good, or so well served as at St.
Pierre, but we cannot complain of any deficiency in the supply, or of
any excess in the charge; for, in point of quantity, there is plenty;
and at half the expense which we had been accustomed to pay at
Martinique:—there, our dinners, with wine included, were four dollars
each person—here, we pay only two. At Jamaica, likewise, where plenty
abounds, the demand was higher than we find it here.

The French, both military and civil, practise a rude custom at the
public dinners, which is widely at variance with their boasted
politeness. It being usual to place the dessert, the wine, the cheese,
&c. upon the table, at the same time with the soup and the meat,
displaying at once, all the provisions of the banquet, the Frenchmen,
upon approaching the dinner-board, without waiting for the company to be
seated, greedily snatch up the fruit, and place it by them in readiness
to be eaten after they shall have dined. In like manner they seize a
quantity of food, from each of the best dishes, heaping the whole upon
their plates, to be afterwards devoured, as if they were afraid that the
fowls and other provisions should fly away, before they could swallow
their soup. This is a selfishness and want of good breeding, which John
Bull, with all his abruptness, would find it extremely difficult to
exhibit. A few days ago, seeing two fine melons, which were standing
near me, about to be carried off, before any person had commenced
eating, I took the liberty of laying an embargo upon the last piece, but
it was at the risk of being lamed, by having a fork struck through my
hand.

We find the St. Domingo breakfast exceedingly pleasant—various kinds of
fruits being served with the tea, chocolate and plantains. At the Mole
we had grapes and figs, every morning: at Port au Prince we have melons,
oranges, and avagata pears: the latter are of exquisite flavour. The
pear is large—its colour either green, or slightly purple. It is not
saccharine, like other fruits; the part used is a green pulp, formed
between the peel and a large stone in the centre. This pulp, when ripe,
is easily taken out with a tea-spoon, by cutting open the fruit, and
removing the stone, round which it is formed, without adhering to it.
Not unaptly, it has been said to resemble marrow, and has obtained the
name of Sir Hans Sloane’s “vegetable marrow:” but you will form a better
idea of its substance and flavour, by considering it to be like the
inner pulp of the large pea used in England, called marrowfat—a quantity
of this collected, free from the skins of the peas, and eaten with
pepper and salt, although very inferior to it, would be more like the
avagata pear than any other fruit or vegetable that is known in Europe.




                               LETTER L.


                                                         Port au Prince.

Since writing my last letter, I have had an opportunity of attending the
Commander in Chief upon an expedition, which remained a secret at
head-quarters, until the morning after we left Port au Prince. Having
dined at the government-house, we set off, a party of five, viz. the
Commander in Chief, Colonel Grant, Major Gillespie, Dr. Jackson, and
myself, escorted by a troop of hussars. In the evening we arrived at the
Croix des Bouquets, a town situated in the plain of the Cul de Sac,
about twelve miles from Port au Prince. Here the General was received by
Colonel O’Gorman, and Major le Pine (two of the foreign officers in
British pay), at the head of a party of the garrison drawn up at the
gate of the fort. We were soon afterwards conducted to the residence of
Monsieur le Curé, where the Commander in Chief was provided for the
night—the rest of the party finding quarters in the town. Before we
separated, orders were given to the escort, announcing that the General
would be on horseback at gun-fire in the morning.

Colonel Grant and myself, being quartered in the same house, rose at
five o’clock, and hastened to the Curé’s, where we found the hussars
drawn up before the door, and the Commander in Chief mounting his horse.
We were instantly on the march, and, soon after passing the outer gate
of the town, the General mentioned the object of the expedition, viz. to
witness the result of an attack, which he had ordered to be made upon a
strong post of the brigands, in the mountains separating the valley of
the Cul de Sac from the plain of Mirebalais; where they had maintained a
commanding position for the last three or four years, to the great
annoyance of our convoys, and of all persons possessing any property in
that vicinity.

Upon this elevated point they had assembled to the number of eight or
nine hundred; and had so strongly fortified themselves as to consider
the position secure against any force which the British commander might
be able to detach. A body of troops had been ordered to proceed in three
columns, with a view of assailing them, in so many different directions
at the same time. We advanced near to the mountains, and within sight of
the brigand post, without hearing any signal, or seeing any of the
troops. We remained therefore only a short time below the hills, and
after being three hours on horseback returned to the Croix des Bouquets
to wait despatches from the officer appointed to command the attack.

On arriving at Monsieur le Curé’s we found the breakfast-table spread
with a copious repast, equally calculated for the hungry trooper, and
for him who had quietly slumbered away his morning hours.

The lamentable revolution has robbed the Curé of his appropriate, and
more distinguish-home—his late residence having been converted into a
fort, and the house into a barrack: but the change, which has placed him
in a more humble abode, has not deprived him of his disposition to
promote the comfort of those who visit him, whether friends or
strangers.

At the hour of dinner the plenteous board again displayed the bounty of
the generous host; who provided an ample supply for a party of eighteen;
our number being increased by some of the officers of the 21st dragoons,
and others belonging to the garrison of the town.

Just as we were seated at table a dragoon arrived, announcing the action
to have commenced, between our troops, and the brigands in the
mountains; and, on looking out, the post was discovered to be in flames;
which augured favorably for the attacking party.

We resumed our quarters at the Croix des Bouquets for the night, and on
the following morning, escorted as before, returned to Port au Prince,
where the General received despatches, informing him that the attack had
succeeded to his wishes—the enemy being defeated, and the place in
possession of our troops; but, we have to lament the loss of several
brave men killed, and many wounded, the post having been defended with
great obstinacy.

This expedition afforded me an opportunity of seeing the plain of the
Cul de Sac, to the extent of sixteen or eighteen miles; and I am sorry
to observe that it exhibits one vast and melancholy picture of
devastation; a considerable part of the town of Croix des Bouquets being
involved in the same destructive fate.

Before the revolution this fertile plain was one of the most improved
spots in the West Indies, being, at that time, adorned with numbers of
highly improved estates, handsome houses, rich gardens, and plenteous
crops of sugar. Now it offers only the dismal marks of ruined greatness
and beauty—displaying a grievous example of the evils which result from
misguiding the passions of the ignorant by the abuse of a popular
sentiment. If the people of France and the slaves of their colonies had
been first taught to comprehend that true _liberty_ consisted in the
privilege of enjoying their own rights, not in the destruction of the
rights of others, that enchanting term could never have been so
perverted to the misery of mankind. To force unlimited freedom upon
slaves, who had always been governed by terror, was to surrender every
consideration of justice, policy, and discretion, to a mere pretence—to
a high-sounding but hollow humanity. It was to let loose the tiger
without having the power of again subduing him, and can only be regarded
as the act of a set of madmen.

It is probable that the lately enviable plain of the Cul de Sac will
soon revert to a wild forest, bearing no visible mark of its former
cultivation; at present a naked chimney, part of a mill, the broken wall
of a sugar-house, or some other ruin, lifts its head, here and there,
above the aspiring thorn—some remains are likewise seen of the fine
roads, the expensive aqueducts, and other improvements which enriched or
embellished the teeming valley: but, unless the all-redeeming hand of
industry shall resume its sway, the few remaining marks of its former
influence will be speedily buried amidst the rapid vegetation of this
prolific soil.




                               LETTER LI.


                                                Cape St. Nicholas, Sept.

You would not expect to hear, thus soon, that I had again changed my
quarters; but it has been already my lot to be exposed to another sea
voyage, from Port au Prince to the Mole. The disasters commenced with
the embarkation; and were not less marked than upon former occasions.

I felt it a fortunate circumstance to have again the opportunity of
making the passage in so good a ship as the Lion. She was to sail at an
early hour of the morning; I left my abode therefore about sunset the
preceding evening, in order to go on board; but in my way to the wharf I
was overtaken by one of those heavy storms of which, beyond the tropics,
you can form no correct idea. The clouds seemed to burst asunder,
emitting broad flashes of light, and rapid torrents of rain which
quickly stood in floods around me. Finding it impossible to get on
board, I waded back through the sea of the streets to my quarters,
guided only by the lightning. It was late before the weather calmed; but
I then renewed my attempt to reach the ship, when, unfortunately, one of
the soldiers, who had charge of my baggage, not seeing the extent of the
wharf, stepped over the edge of it into the sea, with the trunk upon his
head. It was between ten and eleven o’clock—the darkness was
impenetrable; and the man could not swim. Luckily the ship’s boat was
nigh; and the sailors belonging to it instantly plunged into the water
in search of the unfortunate soldier, who, by paddling and struggling,
kept his head above the surface until they discovered him, and, to our
surprise, brought him alive on shore.

These interruptions made it nearly midnight before we reached the Lion;
when we found the deck and every part of the ship in a state of hurry
and confusion; I waited therefore, only to see our poor sufferer
comfortably accommodated, then retired to my birth for the night.

At seven the next morning we got under weigh, amidst a crowded and busy
scene which none but sailors could reduce to any order or
arrangement—many were hastening away from the ship—others scrambling up
her sides to get on board—some of the sailors were heaving the anchor,
others were running and jumping from place to place, about every part of
the vessel, to work the ropes and sails, while the officers were calling
out their orders in loud trumpet sounds: and in addition to the many
concerns of his own ship, the captain had to take charge of twenty sail
of traders, which were put under his convoy, in order to be protected
against the brigands, who were extremely watchful and adventurous at
several posts, between Port au Prince and the Mole.

The cabin passengers were twelve in number, of different nations, sexes,
and callings; besides whom we had some French nymphs of colour with
their sable attendants; so that, together with the ship’s officers, a
body of sixty invalid soldiers, and the white and black sailors, the
whole formed a numerous and motley crew.

A voyage of this kind is not so pleasant as to induce a wish for its
repetition; but the opportunity it afforded of observing the manners and
characters among people of different nations and colours well
compensated the privation of those little comforts which cannot be
commanded in such a situation.

I am sorry to remark that a very shameful abuse is too often practised
on board the English ships, regarding the property of the passengers;
and that the French part of our company had much reason to lament it on
our voyage from Port au Prince. In the ships of their own nation the
passengers are treated with great attention and civility, and whatever
belongs to them is respected: they complain, therefore, very bitterly of
the plunder and dishonesty, which occur so frequently on board the
British vessels. Wine, spirits, pickles, sweetmeats, &c. &c. if not
secured under your own immediate care, seem to be held as articles of
prize property; to be consumed by any who may have it in their power to
seize them. Several packages belonging to the cabin passengers on board
the Lion, were torn open and their contents devoured. Some of the cases,
by way of better security, had been addressed in the name of the
commandant, but even these did not escape the too general pillage; they
were opened, and the bottles drained to the very dregs.

During the voyage, many opportunities offered of conversing with, and
hearing the remarks of the French women of colour, who appear to be far
better informed, and more expert in the art _de faire l’agréable_, than
the same classes in the Dutch or English colonies. Here, as in Europe, a
conversation may be maintained with almost any order of French women, in
a sprightly and agreeable manner; but, among the Dutch and the English,
except with those of superior education, a mere social tête-à-tête,
divested of particular interest, in either party, is commonly languid
and insupportable. Nature has stamped a great variety, among the human
species, upon the different parts of the globe; but education and habit
often effect a diversity not less interesting or important; although, in
some instances, they seem to produce an opposite result, by causing an
affinity where nature has marked a vast discordance. In the French
colonies, even the African and creole slaves assume the lively manners
of their European masters.

But I am straying from my voyage! let me return and inform you, that in
the course of the second day’s sailing we passed St. Marc’s, and there
exchanged part of our convoy; some of the vessels of our fleet leaving
us to go into that port, and others from thence, joining us to proceed
under our protection to the Mole; whence they were to be guarded by the
British to the United States. During the following night we passed the
port of Leogane, one of the posts occupied by the enemy; and at the
moment we were sailing by it, a ship coming out of the harbour, stood
directly for the convoy. On the supposition that it might be one of the
armed vessels of the brigands, some alarm was excited among those of our
little fleet who were nearest in shore, and a signal-gun was fired
implying the approach of an enemy: but it was soon discovered to be an
American trader. She was permitted therefore to join us, and proceed
unmolested to the Mole. The property she contained might be French, or
it might be American, but good-natured John Bull, in kindness to his
transatlantic offspring, protects alike the vessels trading to his own
ports, or to those of his enemy: the policy which dictates this
proceeding is, of course, well advised; but, should one of the vessels
of these, our republican brethren, join a French convoy upon coming out
of a British port, it is highly probable that she would not only be
exposed to a rigid examination, but captured and condemned as a prize.
At the dawn of the third morning we had a view of Cap à Fou near the
Mole, a dangerous post in possession of the brigands; and some of the
fleet found themselves close under the point of land called the
Platform. The breeze was favorable, and if we had not been detained by
the slow-sailing vessels, we might have quickly ended our voyage—instead
of which, we were compelled to pass the whole day, standing off and on,
at the mouth of the harbour. Some of the quick-sailing ships, which were
a-head of the Lion, impatient of being detained, very imprudently
proceeded without waiting for the convoy.

At an early hour the next morning we were lying upon the still surface
of the sea, without the slightest breeze, and, at daylight, found
ourselves farther from the Mole than we had been the preceding evening.
This was the more vexatious, as we were in the precise latitude of
calms; and at the very spot, where our delays had been so annoying on
the passage from Jamaica: but we considered ourselves far from
unfortunate, when, in the course of the day, a light breeze sprang up,
and, with the aid of the current, carried us slowly into the harbour.

On approaching we observed some of the headmost vessels of the convoy
standing in, very near to Cap à Fou, and the guns firing from the
batteries on shore, which led us to apprehend that the enemy’s barges
were in chase of them; but they were too far advanced for us to
ascertain the fact, or afford them any assistance. It was discovered,
afterwards, that these vessels had been lucky enough to escape from
their pursuers; but that two of those which had attempted to get in the
preceding evening had been captured. The brigands, however, suffered for
their temerity; for at the moment these traders were compelled to
surrender off the very mouth of the bay, the Lively sloop happened to
come in, well armed, from Jamaica; when the Admiral, with great
promptitude, ordered an officer of the navy, and some additional sailors
on board, and sent out this vessel against the enemy, accompanied with
some men of war’s boats, and assisted by a party of troops detached by
land. By this active little expedition, one of the brigand boats was
captured, with ten or twelve of her crew either killed or wounded; and
the two vessels of our convoy were retaken.




                              LETTER LII.


                                           Cape St. Nicholas Mole, Sept.

As you assure me that every syllable respecting the prevailing disease
of this climate is read with eager interest, I may mention two striking
cases, which occurred upon our late passage.

The morning after we left Port au Prince, the wife of one of the
soldiers, a robust healthy woman, was seized with a severe febrile
attack; the symptoms running so high as to threaten yellow fever in its
most dangerous form. Early intimation of her illness was conveyed to the
medical attendants, and we had the opportunity of taking away blood very
soon after the invasion of the disease. An active medicine was likewise
administered; and it was found necessary to repeat the bleeding in the
evening. The next morning the fever had greatly abated, and, upon
visiting her the day after, being the third day of the disease, I found
her busily engaged at the wash-tub. The fastidious may seek objections,
pretending that this was not a case of _yellow fever_; but, from the
nature of the attack, and from all the experience I have had, I am
persuaded that this poor woman would have been rapidly destroyed, under
the most malignant symptoms of that disease, if it had not been
prevented by the early use of the lancet.

Only a short time after I had been called to this patient, we were
hailed by the master of one of the American vessels, asking the captain
if he had “any doctors on board,” and soliciting medical aid for one of
his sailors, who, he said, was “seized with a violent fever.” A boat was
hoisted out without delay, and I desired one of the hospital assistants
to go and visit this American sailor, directing him, in the event of his
finding the symptoms such as we had witnessed in the case of the
soldier’s wife, to take from him twenty or thirty ounces of blood, to
administer what other remedy should appear to be necessary, and to tell
the captain to let us hear of him as early the next morning as he might
have an opportunity of speaking the ship. The attack was found to be
very similar to that of the woman: venæsection was consequently
employed, and an evacuating medicine prescribed; but we heard nothing
further from the sailor during the voyage. On sending to the vessel to
ascertain how he was, upon completing the passage, our inquiries were
met by the poor man’s grateful thanks, with the pleasing intelligence
that he “recovered immediately after the bleeding.”

The day we arrived at the Mole, the Drake and Pelican brigs of war came
into harbour from a cruise—the Pelican having on board some French or
brigand sailors to place in the naval hospital. By the humane exertions
of the British, these men had been saved from a sinking privateer, which
had ventured to attack the Pelican, in the hope of making her a prize.
Scarcely could the crew have been more unfortunate than in attempting
this vessel, for she is equally celebrated on account of carrying an
uncommon weight of metal, as for having fought many brave and successful
actions during the war. In less than half an hour from the commencement
of the fight she drove the privateer to the bottom of the ocean. It is
melancholy to know that not less than eighty hands were on board, and
that with all the best exertions of the Pelican’s company, only a small
number of them could be saved, among whom were some so frightfully
burned that they were horrid and miserable figures to behold.

Upon conversing with these men, in the hospital, I learned that they
were actually blown out of the ship into the sea, by the explosion of
the privateer, before she went down, and that by this accident alone
they escaped the fate of their companions. Some of them were scorched
and blistered from head to foot, and were lying in agonizing tortures.
Among these wretched sufferers I observed two men and a boy who, from
the appearance of the small portion of skin which remained upon them,
must have been either Europeans, or the offspring of European parents.
It is not incurious to witness the medley of different colours, and
different nations assembled in this asylum of the sick. Regardless of
all the contentions and jealousies of war, our hospitals are the general
receptacles of the afflicted. Friends and foes are equally admitted, and
relief is impartially administered to all. Here are associated Africans,
French, Spaniards, Creoles, English, Scots, and Irish, sharing, in
common, the soothing balm of humanity. Being disabled, notwithstanding
it be in the field of strife, enmity is banished, and they participate,
as friends, the cares and duties which are indiscriminately dispensed to
those who are sick, or wounded.

In our walk through the hospital, we found one of the wards filled with
inhabitants, still less to be expected than any of the foregoing; viz. a
crowd of enormous turtles. These had been brought to the Mole by one of
the ships of war for the use of the sick. They were placed upon their
backs, each having its head supported by a large stone. In this
situation they were kept alive by wetting their eyes every morning with
sea water. They are used for the patients in the hospital by being
cooked into a plain nutritive broth; and in this humble form they
constitute a very valuable supply of wholesome food, amidst the paucity
of fresh animal provisions.

Many of the sick, in the naval hospital, are afflicted with scurvy; many
also with dysentery, and, in these cases, the turtle broth forms an
excellent support. The convalescents, likewise, from fever, and from
wounds, find it a very nourishing diet.

On my first arrival at the Mole I mentioned to you the very barren
aspect of the surrounding territory, and I may now remark, that it does
not improve upon acquaintance. In my rides to the hospitals, barracks,
and outworks, at short distances from the town, I find the general face
of the country dreary and sterile almost beyond example. Never did
mountains exhibit a more naked and unfruitful appearance. They seem to
be so entirely arid and unproductive as to afford no provision for man
or beast, nor scarcely for bird or insect. Still the immediate scene
around the town must have been much worse before the place was captured
by the English; for, since it has been in our possession, several
barracks, hospitals, and block-houses, have been erected upon different
eminences, placing so many objects in view, and giving a degree of
animation and diversity to the picture.

In a cool, elevated situation, above the town, is an extensive barrack,
which was the remotest position established by the French. The part
built by them is of stone; and, by a _wooden_ addition, we have most
unwisely converted the structure into a close square—perhaps the worst
form that could be contrived, in this country, for any habitation
intended to be occupied by a crowded body of people.

This building is now unoccupied, in consequence of the number of troops
being diminished, and the line of defence extended to a greater distance
up the hills, by a chain of new barracks and block-houses, sufficient to
accommodate all the present garrison. The height of the rocks, their
steep and rugged form, and the general rudeness of their barren surface,
seem to bid defiance to the approach of an enemy; and, as defended by
the late improvements ordered by General Whyte, the Mole, if adequately
garrisoned, might probably be secure against any force which the
brigands, or the republicans now in the island, could bring against it:
but with the enemy in possession of the surrounding territory, and
acquainted with the weakened state of the garrison, we cannot feel
ourselves quite safe against an attack.

In the days of our pleasant mess on board the Lord Sheffield, it was the
favorite anticipation of our party, that if we should chance to be
serving in the same colony at the conclusion of the war, or at the time
of our being recalled to England, we should contrive, if possible, to
visit the United States of America, together, on our way home. The idea
was then so grateful to me that I have never abandoned it, and
notwithstanding my then happy, and social comrades are widely separated
by death, or other causes, I still look with hope to this excursion as a
journey not only of high gratification, but of faithful devotion to the
memory of a party of congenial friends, who can never meet again.

My desire to visit the northern, is further strengthened by the
opportunity I have had of residing in the southern part of the American
continent; and whenever it shall be my lot to return to England, I shall
earnestly endeavour to make the voyage by way of the United States.




                              LETTER LIII.


                                                      St. Domingo, 1797.

You tell me that you are anticipating the perusal of a summary account
of the slaves, and state of slavery in the West Indies; but, with every
desire to meet your wishes, I feel myself incompetent to the task of
directing my pen, upon this subject, in such a manner as may gratify
your expectations. I can only offer you, therefore, a few general
remarks, which may serve as a recapitulation of the desultory notes,
which have been already transmitted to you as circumstances chanced to
fall in my path.

You know already that the blacks are purchased upon the coast of Africa,
and brought from thence, to the West Indies, in trading ships, fitted
out expressly for that purpose. These vessels are the property of
individual merchants; and the profit or loss of the adventure rests upon
the same chances as in other articles of traffic; but the number, or
quantum of the cargo is now regulated by act of parliament, and cannot
exceed a given proportion according to the ship’s tonnage. In addition
to the common feelings of humanity, it is made the interest of all
concerned, to treat these poor Africans well upon the voyage;
consequently ill usage and unnecessary severities are carefully avoided,
and the cruelties which we read of are no longer practised. They are
kept upon deck in the day-time, and induced, by the cheering sound of
their favorite banjar, to dance and jump about, by way of exercise. Many
of them are taught to pull the ropes, and assist in working the ship;
and it is often surprising to observe their expertness, and the progress
they make, during the voyage, in performing the sailors’ duties.

The men and women are separated from each other, by a boarded partition,
placed across the vessel. They are fed with rice, or Guinea corn, the
pounding and preparing of which afford them a source of exercise and
employment. They have a great amusement in collecting together in
groups, and singing their favorite African songs, in which the energy of
their action is more remarkable than the harmony of the music. They
sleep between decks, upon the bare boards of the empty cabins—the men
below the middle hatchway, the women in the aft cabin. In these births
they are necessarily much crowded, only twenty inches of board being
allowed for each person; and, notwithstanding every care being taken to
preserve a free ventilation, still, from being thus stowed together, the
heat and fœtor of the place become intolerably offensive. But they are
removed at an early hour in the morning, and great attention is paid to
cleanliness, by daily washing the cabins, and leaving them as open as
possible to the sun and the breeze—the purification being effected with
greater facility in consequence of neither furniture, bedding, nor
clothing being allowed.

Like the cargoes of any other species of merchandise, the slaves are
regularly consigned to an agent for sale; and, in the course of a few
days after their arrival, having acquired their best appearance, by
resting from the fatigue of the voyage, and being well rubbed and
cleaned, or even oiled, and blacked, and polished so as to have sleek
and healthy-looking skins, they are exposed by auction or otherwise, and
unreservedly sold to the planters, merchants, and other inhabitants of
the colony,—each becoming as exclusively the property of the purchaser
as his ox, or his ass, or any thing that is his!

After the sale they are conducted to the respective homes of their new
masters; the separating from each other, often becoming their severest
trial—their heaviest and most bitter affliction: but, to the credit of
the parties concerned, it is contrived, as much as possible, to sell
those who are of one family, to the same purchaser, in order to spare
them the pangs of parting: still this cannot, in all cases, be
accomplished, and the scene of separation is sometimes truly melancholy
and affecting. Having reached the abodes of their several owners, they
are soothed by meeting with their countrymen; and some of the old
negroes are instructed to cheer and console them, by talking to them in
their own language, and representing that, by good conduct, they may
ensure good treatment, and make themselves happy. Next they are
designated with appropriate appellations, each having the name assigned
to him placed round his neck, written upon a card, or a piece of wood.
Commonly the christening and marriage form but one ceremony—the men
being desired to choose their wives at the time they are named; and they
are paired off accordingly.

The present price of a healthy negro is from fifty to eighty pounds
sterling, according to his age, and strength. The creoles, particularly
if cooks, or mechanics, such as tailors, carpenters, or the like, are
valued at twenty or thirty, or even sixty pounds more than the untried
Africans; who, besides requiring to be taught, may prove to be subject
to some malady, or may fall a sacrifice to the seasoning. Women, and
boys sixteen or seventeen years old, are considered to be of nearly
equal value; but they are somewhat cheaper than the men.

For a considerable time after their arrival it is usual to put them only
to light work, treating them with gentleness, and making their
employment more an object of amusement than of fatigue. Thus they are
gradually trained to the common round of toil, which, after all that is
said and written upon the subject, is not so severe or oppressive, as
general opinion in Europe represents it. It is compulsory, and therefore
performed with reluctance: but the labour is not more heavy, nor the day
longer, than that of the poor in other countries. They are not required
to toil during more than twelve hours of the twenty-four; and due
intervals are allowed for taking rest and food. The climate is
undoubtedly more exhausting than that of Europe, but the quantum of work
performed is proportionate. The labour of an industrious English
peasant, or mechanic amounts, perhaps, to three or four times as much,
within the twelve hours, as is accomplished, within the same period, by
a slave. Besides which, it should be taken into the account, that the
temperature is congenial to the negroes; in proof of which, I have
observed it to be a common practice among them, instead of retiring into
the shade, to eat their dinners, and bask away the whole hour allotted
them, in the open field, exposed to the direct rays of the sun.

It is always the interest of the master to be kind and considerate
towards his slaves; for, if they become sickly, and unfit for labour,
they will be only an useless expense to him. Among the planters, who
possess large bodies of them, their hours of rest and toil are regular
and proportioned: they are fitly clothed, and amply fed, and are less
frequently treated with severity. It is among a different class of
owners whose bread is earned by the toil of a smaller number, or who
have only a single slave, that the unhappy blacks are ill-fed,
hard-worked, and often punished.

From much, and careful observation, I am authorized to remark that the
planters in general are humane and merciful, and do not exact immoderate
toil: with them the slaves have a certain round of duty, which cannot be
regarded as excessive or severe, being such as may be performed without
any hurtful exertion. Still, humanity is shocked that hosts of our
species should be brought to public market—sold like sheep or pigs—and
driven to work, like cart-horses, with whips at their backs; and upon
this ground it is, that the whole system of slavery must be condemned;
for, notwithstanding the great majority of owners may be duly careful of
their negroes, it must be eternally unjust, and repugnant to every
proper sentiment, that any individual, possessing the common frailties
of our nature, should have absolute, and unlimited control over others
of his fellow-beings.

A man may be generally humane and considerate, and may recollect, upon
all common occasions, that it is equally consistent with his duty and
his interest to be tender toward his slaves; but it is too certain that
there are moments of ungovernable feeling, when no consciousness of
interest or propriety can prevail; and, when the individual, however
kind in his usual conduct, should not be left, unrestrained by the laws,
to wreak his vengeance upon another; for, no man, however just,
honorable, and correct in his ordinary dealings, can be, at all moments,
fit to be intrusted with the fourfold power of accuser, witness, judge,
and executioner!

And, if periods may occur, when even good men may be so led away by
their passions, as to interrupt the general consistency of their
characters, and conduct themselves with inhumanity, how dreadful is the
reflection that those, who, even in their best moments, are not governed
by the same amiable feelings, should, upon all occasions, possess the
same absolute authority!

Stupidity, obstinacy, and revenge, constitute the more prominent
features in the character of slaves—forming the cruel mark, stamped upon
them by the very nature of their situation; for, the man being degraded,
the mind naturally becomes debased. Sunk in the darkest ignorance, they
are wholly devoid of principle: having no sense of moral duty, they
thieve, lie, and cheat without restraint, considering the crime to
consist only in being detected: governed solely by fear, they scarcely
comprehend the doctrine of right and wrong. They are depressed below all
proper sense of shame, or elevation; and, being too imbecile to reason
upon what is fit and best, in a general view, they have no consideration
beyond self-interest, and the gratification of the present moment. Deep
sulkiness, idleness, deceit, and low cunning are among their most
conspicuous qualities; and if, from these feelings, they are liable to
offend the temper, and provoke the irascibility of those about them, it
is evident that it must require great forbearance and self-control not
to treat them with severity—hence, the impropriety of their being left
at the will and mercy of those, whose power over them is arbitrary and
unbounded[13].

As it is the effect of bondage to debase the mind of the slave, so is it
the natural effect of governing slaves to render the master
inconsiderate and severe: it destroys all the finer feelings, and, by
permitting men to indulge, instead of compelling them to conceal their
passions, begets inordinate and cruel habits, even among those in whose
bosoms nature had not implanted them. The laws of a well-ordered state
may have the power of rendering bad men good in effect, by causing them
to keep a constant watch over their passions, and teaching them to
subdue the worst feelings of their nature: but the governing of slaves
produces a directly opposite result, and tends to make the best men bad,
by removing all control, and suffering their worst passions to riot in
lawless sway.

One master may be severe, and punish for the slightest fault—another may
miscalculate, and fancy it his interest to overwork his slaves; and
others may distress them, from feelings of ill-will: also, if the
master, whose real interest it is to cherish and protect his negroes, be
kind and humane towards them, the manager, the overseer, or the driver,
who has not the same motives of interest to check him, may be cruel, and
inflict great severities, without the owner’s knowledge; for, a slave
has no hope of being heard in appealing against a white man; nor would
he dare to complain to the master, against those who wield the scourge,
lest resentment should multiply the affliction: hence, as every man is
frail, every slave must be liable to be ill treated, from one cause or
other. It cannot therefore be contended that the system is otherwise
than radically bad.

But, with respect to the acute feelings of the slaves, and the anguish
they suffer from a sense of the galling oppression to which they are
exposed, the case is not so grievous as it is sometimes represented;
for, very few, if any of them comprehend the advantages of freedom, or
reflect with poignancy upon the vast and bitter distinctions between
that condition and the ignominious state of slavery. I have frequently
taken the opportunity of leading the negroes into conversation,
expressly for the purpose of ascertaining their sentiments upon this
head; but I never met with one, either male or female, who knew how to
estimate properly, or, indeed, fully to understand the difference. To
the plain question, whether it would not be a great happiness to them to
have their freedom, they commonly reply by asking, what they could do if
they were free—who would give them food—who supply them with
clothing—or, who send them a doctor when sick? thus implying that, in
their neglected minds, the _freedom from care_ is a compensation for
their manifold privations. Many of them have been known even to refuse
their proffered enfranchisement; and others, who have been liberated,
have voluntarily continued the habits and toils of slavery. It will
occur to you that, in these cases, they must have been well treated by
their owners.

Although considerations of humanity must silence every syllable that
might be urged in defence of slavery, still, upon the ground of policy,
and the actual state of West India possession, the subject of
emancipation claims the most calm and attentive investigation. It is a
question upon which conflicting opinions are entertained; and many
persons, on either side, who might give a deliberate and unbiassed
judgment upon other matters, are too much under the influence of
prejudice with regard to this: but, the very existence of discordant
sentiments ought to teach all parties a lesson of the greatest caution.
Many well-informed colonists reduce the inquiry to a simple
question—whether the cultivation of the settlements should be continued
or abandoned? insisting that there can be no middle course! Some, led
away by a mistaken philanthropy, contend for a general and immediate
emancipation, upon the plea that the colonies might be cultivated, and
our West India commerce preserved, without slaves; whilst others,
weighing minutely the justice and policy, as well as the humanity of the
proceeding, are advocates for a slow and gradual enlargement; but in a
matter of such magnitude and importance, a circumspect measure of steady
operation must, undoubtedly, be far preferable to a hasty act, which,
however well intended, might only multiply the evil it is designed to
remove.

The abolition of the importation of slaves, from Africa[14], might be a
task of less difficulty than the emancipation of those already in the
colonies. To accomplish the former, with equal benefit and humanity, a
wise system of regulations should be established in the settlements; and
the arrangement should be concerted in conjunction with the other
nations engaged in this unnatural traffic. The creole slaves are of
higher value than those imported; but, while common calculation shows it
to be cheaper to purchase a negro than to breed one up, it is not to be
expected that the greatest possible care will be taken, and all the
requisite means employed to increase the population of the creoles. It
might, therefore, be an act of the highest policy to prohibit the
importation, and thereby render it the general and individual interest
of the colonists to introduce every useful regulation; more particularly
for the better accommodation of the pregnant females, and their
offspring: but, as it is doubtful, whether, under a sudden suspension of
the trade, any plan could be adopted to insure an increase, or even a
continuance of the existing population, it is necessary that the
abolition, as well as the emancipation, should be gradually effected.
Perhaps, with this view, it might be proper, among other regulations, to
allow certain vessels to continue the importation for a limited period,
requiring that each of them should bring an increased number of females,
in every future cargo, in order that there may be an adequate proportion
of women in the colonies at the time of the final prohibition.




                              LETTER LIV.


In complying with your wish that I should send you a letter exclusively
upon the subject of the disease which has committed such afflicting
ravages in our army, I shall confine myself principally to what concerns
the nature of the disorder, feeling that a minute detail of the
symptoms, and mode of treatment would not only be less interesting, but
perhaps very tedious to you.

After all that I have been able to observe, with respect to this
dreadful complaint, I think that, considering it as a malady of the West
India colonies, it may be correctly regarded as the effect of climate,
operating upon exotic bodies. It is the fever of the country—an endemial
malady, which attacks those, most severely, whose general vigour, and
whose firmness, or density of fibre offer the strongest resistance. To
look for it in ships and vessels;—to strain the eye across the ocean, in
order to fix its birth-place upon the opposite coast of the Atlantic, or
to trace its descent from the shores of the Indian seas, would be to
overlook the reality in search of a phantom! It needs no foreign parent:
the earth is its mother: its father the sun.

When Europeans first take up their residence in the West Indies, it is
usual for them, sooner or later after their arrival, to undergo an
attack of fever; which in times of peace and tranquillity, when the
“_new-comers_” are but few, is termed a “_seasoning fever_;” but in
times of war, when, from great multitudes arriving at the same period,
its destructive effects are more striking, is called a “_yellow fever_;”
but, whether denominated “_seasoning_” or “_yellow_,” or marked by any
other appellation, it is only the common bilious fever of hot climates:
and it appears under an intermittent, a remittent, or a continued form,
according to the soil and situation of the place; or the habit of body,
and other circumstances of the person attacked. In negroes and creoles
it is frequently an ague; in those who are in a degree acclimated a
remittent; and in _new-comers_ a _continued_, or, as it is commonly
termed, a _yellow_ fever; preserving, in each case, a distinct type
throughout its course; while, in other instances of its attack upon
Europeans, it shifts its form, and runs its progress with the utmost
irregularity: in proof of which I may remark that it has happened to
myself to receive newly arrived soldiers into the hospital, at the same
time, with this seasoning malady, under all the varieties of its
intermittent, remittent, and continued form: and notwithstanding each
has been differently attacked, all of them have died, in the course of
only a few days, with every symptom of the most malignant _yellow_
fever.

Nature, in her fostering care, hath endowed the human frame with the
power of accommodating itself to all the various climates upon the
habitable regions of our globe; yet hath she more expressly adapted our
organs to the particular climate in which she hath stationed us: so
constituting the nice and delicate movements of the animal machine, that
we cannot, without peril, expose ourselves to sudden or violent
transitions.

To the inhabitants of different regions is given something of
constitutional difference, which it would be difficult precisely to
define: but it belongs to a certain original conformation, creating a
difference of fibre or stamina, which more particularly befits the body
for the specific region, in which it is designed to move: yet, while
much is attributed to nature, it ought not to be forgotten that habit
follows nature very closely, in her influence upon the human frame; and
hence it is that by long residence, and similarity of pursuit, so near
an approach to this specific and original structure may be acquired, as
to promote healthy action, in a being removed to a foreign, and even to
an ungenial climate: still, this is only the yielding of a body
originally different; for the assimilation is never so complete as to be
in all respects the same. The constitution of a negro from Africa, or
the West Indies, never becomes entirely British, although he remain in
England the greater number of his days: and however much an European, by
long residence in the West Indies, be brought to resemble a creole, he
can never acquire, precisely, the constitution of a native: some marks
of original conformation will still exist, and something, even in his
general appearance, to distinguish him.

Nor is this difference of organization confined to the human subject:
other animal bodies, and also vegetables differ in their structure and
external appearance, in different climates. The wool of sheep, removed
from a northern region to the West Indies, becomes hair; and the almost
tasteless potatoe of Europe assumes a strong saccharine flavour from
tropical culture.

The influence of the atmosphere, not only in different climates, but
under its various changes in the same climate, is, at all times, and in
all countries, far greater than common opinion supposes: nor has the
attention of medical men been sufficiently directed to this
circumstance, although it is of great magnitude. Hypochondriacs, persons
subject to rheumatism, or asthma, and those afflicted with painful
thickenings of the cuticle (usually termed corns), become exquisitely
sensible of the slightest variations in the state of the atmosphere;
whence it may be concluded, that it cannot but operate, at all moments,
with a powerful effect upon the tender fibres of our delicately
organized vessels; and if, in our native region, the influence be so
considerable, must it not be infinitely more important, upon the body
being exposed to the stronger impressions of an unnatural climate,

                “... where the sun, with downward torrid ray,
          _Kills_ with the barb’rous glories of the day?”

Without entering more minutely into the subject, suffice it to remark,
that there appears to be a certain gradation in the tone, or firmness of
the animal fibre, as we proceed from the hotter through the more
temperate regions; not following in exact mathematical proportion, but
sufficiently manifest to form some standard for general observation;
and, perhaps, to sanction the assumption that the density or laxity of
the human fibre bears an intimate alliance with the temperature of the
climate, with respect to heat or cold; although it may be influenced,
likewise, by other circumstances; such as the dryness or moisture of the
atmosphere, the state of the soil, the manner of clothing, and the
habits pursued. In the colder regions towards the poles, the fibre is
firmer, the circulation of the fluids slower, and the secretions are
more languid; while in the warmer regions, near the equator, the fibre
is lax, respiration quicker, the circulation more rapid, and the
secretions are more copious, and more speedily performed. In order,
therefore, to fit the constitution of a polar inhabitant for a tropical
climate, or to accommodate the system of a tropical inhabitant to a
polar atmosphere, it is needful that the change should be gradual, that
the necessary density or laxity be induced, with as little risk as
possible of disorganization, and consequent dissolution[15]. Not only do
the inhabitants of cold climates suffer, on being transferred to the
tropical regions—the negroes can as ill support the change to a northern
atmosphere. They are frequently the victims of being brought to Europe:
amidst the cold of our winter, all their energies seem to be destroyed,
and their faculties benumbed: they seldom live to old age, but,
commonly, sink into marasmus, or are cut off by early consumption.

Fever, excessive heat, violent passion, or any other cause which
greatly, and suddenly hurries the circulation of the fluids, diminishes
the tone and energy of the living animal fibre, and deprives it of that
degree of firmness which is necessary to health; but, by gradually
habituating the body to the change, a high degree of increased
circulation, or a considerable diminution of the original density of
fibre may be supported, without any consequent derangement of structure:
the increased action of the vessels, the augmented velocity of the
fluids, and the subsequent laxity of fibre, induced by great heat, or
high fever, may be borne, provided they are not so sudden, nor so long
continued, as to cause disorganization.

We have many familiar examples which testify the effect of original
conformation, and the powerful influence of habit upon the animal body,
with respect to its state of health or disease. If a person accustomed
to live in the gloom of London should expose his face, for only a short
time, to the full rays of the sun, at Brighton, the skin would be
separated as if by the application of a blister; but if a hardy shepherd
of the downs were to lie upon the hills, with his face open to the broad
sun, throughout the day, not the smallest part of the cuticle would be
disturbed.

A negro, to whom the climate is congenial, can run over the hills in the
West Indies, for many hours in succession without suffering the
slightest inconvenience: but if an European of more unyielding fibre,
and only lately arrived within the tropics, were to follow him in such a
course, it would be more than probable—it would be almost certain, that,
within a few succeeding hours, a fever would complete the
disorganization, and send him to the grave.

So the fluids of a racer may be hurried violently through his vessels,
without any injury to the natural organization: but if an unpractised
horse, of a different original conformation, were to be taken from the
cart and made to gallop, with all possible speed, over a course of four
or six miles, it is probable that from the increased impulse, and the
resistance of his unaccommodating fibre, fever, disorganization, and
death would speedily ensue.

In cold or temperate climates, bulls are baited, and hares hunted, in
order that the sound texture of their fibres may be broken down, and the
muscles made tender, by their dying in the fever of increased and
violent circulation. This is a fact so well known to sportsmen, that a
hunted hare is always preferred to one that has been shot, or taken by
other means.

Epicures let their meat hang after it is killed, until the atmosphere
has effected the same purpose, by a different process, and it be made
tender by a decomposition, or partial putrefaction. But in the West
Indies, it is common to see the animal alive in the market, and to have
its joints smoking upon table the same day at dinner: it is slaughtered,
dressed, and eaten, without the flesh growing cold; yet there is no
complaint of the meat being hard or tough.

These remarks will serve to lead your attention more particularly to the
subject of climate, and to the effects of habit and original
conformation. Without attempting to enter more particularly into the
various changes, which the febrile action produces in destroying life,
or the specific mode in which these changes are effected, I may state a
few other general circumstances, which will show the application, of
what has been already said, to the subject in question, viz. the
continued, or _yellow_ fever.

Creoles and negroes are not subject to the fever in its continued, or
most malignant form: when it invades them, it appears under a remittent
or intermittent type. In these classes the original conformation, aided
by a constant exposure to the heat and atmosphere of these regions, has
established a due state of fibre, and given to the body a certain
congeniality which empowers it to continue its healthy action, amidst
all the circumstances of climate and situation.

Europeans, who have resided during a period of several years in the West
Indies, are seldom attacked with the fever in its continued form; when
it seizes them, it commonly assumes the type of a remittent. In persons
of this class, the body, from long exposure to the climate, has become
creolised, approaching to the conformation of the natives, by having the
original firmness of fibre reduced to the appropriate standard for
continuing the healthy action, under exposure to preternatural heat.

The strongest men—those of the most dense or rigid fibre are most
subject to the high degrees of the continued, or _yellow_ fever; and are
most frequently, and most rapidly destroyed by it. Women, children,
convalescents from former malady, and those who have been reduced by the
use of mercurial remedies are less frequently the objects of its attack:
and when it seizes them, it is usually milder, and less rapid in its
progress. In these classes, the state of the animal fibre, either from
original conformation, or from eventual circumstances, more nearly
approaches to that of the creoles and natives.

In North America, the inhabitants, who constantly reside in the most
southern states, are seldom attacked with the fever in its more violent,
or continued form; while those of the north-east states are destroyed by
it in great numbers: but, even in these districts, it is remarked that
the fever more readily seizes strangers from Europe, or peasants from
the interior provinces, than the natives of the towns, in which the
disease prevails. These facts are striking, and they seem to admit of
ready explanation. The inhabitants of the southern states, from being
subject to constant heat, are acclimated, and, in constitution, approach
nearly to the creoles or natives of the West Indies: but those residing
in the more northern states, although exposed to a very high degree of
heat during the summer, can never become creolised, on account of the
intervening winter, which annually renews the predisposition, and
creates a susceptibility of the disease; still, from living, during part
of the year, in excessive heat, and remaining, at all times, in the
atmosphere of their towns, the inhabitants of the place, where the
disease prevails, are, in some degree, less susceptible of the most
malignant form of the fever, than strangers from Europe, or peasants
from the inland districts, whose more dense and rigid fibre renders them
in a peculiar manner predisposed.

From these remarks, it appears that the presence of contagion is in no
degree necessary to the production of this fever. Indeed its invasion is
governed by circumstances very opposite to the known laws of contagion:
for, in proportion as the body approaches the creole structure, so is it
able to support the change of temperature, and to resist the fatal
effects of the seasoning malady. If the constitution, either from
natural organization, or from long residence, be assimilated to the
climate, _i. e._ if it be reduced to the common standard of the creoles,
there is nothing to apprehend from the disease: but if it be not, the
fever will, assuredly, make its attack, without waiting for any such
cause as contagion.

Moreover, if it can be ascertained, that certain classes of people are
most liable to be attacked, and if it can be proved that there is a
regular gradation, according as they have been more or less exposed to
the influence of climate, it must be equally unnecessary and
unphilosophical to call in the aid of a power, the application of whose
laws it were impossible to reconcile with the appearances observed. No
disease of known contagion is affected by the events which are, daily,
seen to govern the progress of the yellow fever; if, therefore,
contagion be regarded as the parent of this disease, it must be a
contagion of a very uncommon and peculiar nature; for it is a
circumstance, both singular and unprecedented, that an active and
wide-spreading contagion, prevailing in any particular country, should,
expressly, avoid the inhabitants of that country, and only lie in wait
for strangers; and, further, that should these not chance to arrive, for
many years, it would remain dormant throughout the whole period, and,
again, rush forth with undiminished vigour, the very moment when
strangers should appear! I think I might say, with the greatest
correctness, that if no person from a colder climate, should visit the
West India colonies for the space of five, ten, or any given number of
years, no instance of the yellow fever, distinct from the bilious
remittent fever of the country, would be known, during that period; yet,
if a body of men, unaccustomed to the climate, should arrive from
Europe, in the month of July or August immediately succeeding, a
considerable proportion of them would be seized, and probably destroyed
by this disease, before they had commemorated the first return of a new
year: but, can it be supposed that a most subtile and active contagion
would thus remain latent, for any specified term, amidst whole hosts of
natives, and suddenly resume all its destructive powers, as soon as a
body of more robust foreigners should come within its reach?

In England, the harvest-men and strangers, who go into the fens of Kent,
or Lincolnshire in the autumn, are more readily attacked with the
endemial fever of those counties, than the inhabitants, who constantly
dwell in the atmosphere which causes it; yet we do not learn that,
during the prevalence of any contagious malady in these districts, the
contagion cautiously avoids the men of Kent or Lincolnshire, to lie in
wait for strangers; nor, perhaps, will any physician venture to assert
that the Kentish fever is produced by infection.

It would seem more probable that the contagion, common to any particular
country, should seize the natives of that country. The plica Polonica
shuns not the people of Poland; nor the sibbens those of Scotland:
neither do the yaws spare the creoles, or the Africans. But what appears
most surprising is, that this very extraordinary contagion should not
attack the languid blacks of the West Indies; yet when it arrives in
America, that it should seize the more robust negroes of the United
States.

This is a fact, which is totally irreconcileable upon the principle of
the disease proceeding from contagion. The negro of the West Indies,
from always living in a high degree of heat, has no susceptibility: but
the negro of America acquires a predisposition from the recurrent cold
of the winter. The fibre of the one is relaxed, and yielding—of the
other dense and resisting. In the same way it is explained why the
inhabitants of Louisiana, Georgia, and the Carolinas, are less subject
to the disease, than those of Virginia, Pennsylvania, and New York. Did
the fever spread itself by contagion, we know of no cause why it should
extend its ravages to the north instead of the south; why it should
seize whites in preference to blacks; why a vigorous European rather
than a languid creole; nor, why it should avoid the sable race of the
West Indies, yet affect the negroes of North America.

It is not a law of contagion to make its attack upon the strongest
people: more commonly it assails those of tender fibre. Were any given
number of healthy men, and an equal number of children to be exposed, at
the same time, to the influence of the contagion of small-pox, measles,
or scarlatina, common observation informs us that the children would be
found to be most susceptible of the impression, and attacked in the
greatest number: but the very reverse of this would be the case if they
were to be exposed, in a similar manner, to the cause producing the
yellow fever—the men would be found to be most susceptible, and a
greater proportion of them would fall victims to the disease.

Not only does this fever invade Europeans, newly arrived in the West
Indies, in preference to creoles, negroes, and those who, by a
long-continued residence, have become acclimated; but even among these
unhappy Europeans, who happen to be susceptible, the most healthy and
robust, and, in general, those who are the earliest subjected to great
exertions, and the high degrees of temperature, are sooner seized, and
more rapidly destroyed, than those of laxer fibre, or those who have the
opportunity of becoming more gradually enured to the climate.

But the “New-comers,” if exposed to the yaws, the cra-cra, or any other
disease of decided contagion, are not found to be more susceptible than
the creoles, or the negroes: although, with regard to the bites of
musquitoes and other insects, the difference of effect upon the
Europeans, and the people of the climate, is as peculiarly marked, as it
is with respect to the yellow fever. The small puncture made in the skin
of a robust European by a musquito, or a sand-fly, frequently becomes
inflamed, tumefies, breaks into a sore, spreads into a malignant ulcer,
and, ultimately, robs the hardy son of the North of his life; while the
languid creole, or the negro, quietly lets the insect bite, without
apprehending any of this sad train of consequences.

Seeing that the fever can, unquestionably, originate without contagion,
some contend that, in its passage through the body, it generates a
matter, which is capable of producing the disease, by being diffused in
the atmosphere, and that it, thus, becomes infectious. But even in this
widest sense of the term, I cannot consider it to be either a contagious
or infectious malady; for it does not appear that, by any inherent
process, the living human body has the power of generating the _pabulum_
necessary for the production or support of this fever; or that the
disease, in its progress through the human frame, begets a poison, _sui
generis_, which may be conveyed from one person to produce the disorder
in another.

The contagious or infectious fever which proceeds from distempered human
exhalations, is a distinct malady. The yellow fever has a different
origin—is different in its symptoms, and requires a different mode of
treatment. They both have their degrees, and the mild typhus, and typhus
gravior of England are not more alike than the continued and the
remittent fever of the West Indies. Perhaps the mild, and the confluent
small-pox are more unlike: yet no one denies that either is small-pox;
or doubts that both are derived from the same cause—the same specific
virus.

If the medical attendants, and the (white) orderlies, who have been
employed in the hospitals, have suffered from the fever; still, they
have only suffered in common with the officers and soldiers, who have
not been quartered near the hospitals; and, as their proportion of duty
and fatigue has been unusually great, it were not to be expected that
they could escape better than their comrades.

The following fact seems to militate strongly against the doctrine of
the yellow fever being, originally, a contagious, or becoming, in the
course of its progress, an infectious malady, viz. that, of the
multitudes of black men and women, whom I have had occasion to see
employed constantly in the hospitals, and who have executed all the
menial duties about the sick, the dying, and the dead, I never knew even
a _single instance_ of either male or female taking the disease. Perhaps
no person will contend that this would have happened if the hospitals
had been equally crowded with patients in small-pox, measles, scarlet
fever, the jail fever, or any complaint decidedly infectious[16].

The yellow fever prevails most commonly, and most extensively, at the
decline of the wet season of the year, when the rains and the sun
irregularly alternate, and cause unsettled weather: this is also the
period when the bilious remittent, and the ague appear among the creoles
and negroes. In the midst, or at the very height of the wet season, and
during the finer dry season, the fever, in all its forms, is less
prevalent: likewise in the dry and elevated parts of the country, which
are open to the breeze, it is out of all proportion less frequent than
in low damp situations in the valleys, and about the openings of the
rivers. In North America it is principally, and almost exclusively a
disease of the low and crowded towns, seated upon the borders of the
rivers, and the bays of the sea; and is scarcely known in the inland and
more lofty parts of the country.

The great favoring circumstances, therefore, appear to be a high degree
of temperature, and a moist state of the atmosphere; to which may be
added, perhaps, the ill-chosen site of the towns: but, from the
particular season in which it spreads its ravages, and from all the
concomitances, it is probable that some miasma, or unwholesome
exhalation, may be regarded as the true _pabulum_ of the disease.

At the middle period of the wet season the ditches and canals are full,
and the brooks and rivulets fluent, so that the noxious exhalations are
neither readily formed, nor easily taken up into the atmosphere: in the
dry season, these deadly vapours are either chased away by the breeze,
or rendered inert by the intense rays of the sun: but, during the
intermediate period, at the decline of the wet season, every
circumstance tends to favor their production, and to promote their
diffusion and suspension in the surrounding air.

The fever is most readily generated in new colonies, where the land is
only partially cleared of its wood, badly cultivated, and the
half-drained soil left to exhale its noxious vapours into the
atmosphere. In the older colonies, where the forests have been long cut
down, the territory submitted to the labours of the planter, and its
surface more opened to the breeze, it is found to be less prevalent.
Examples of this are seen in the old islands of Barbadoes and Antigua,
contrasted with those of Grenada and Trinidad. The former are well
cleared, and universally tilled, and from locality as well as culture,
freely exposed to the influence of the trade-wind: in these, the disease
but seldom appears. The latter are not yet brought under general
cultivation, but are partially covered with wood, and the atmosphere is
damper, and less purified by the breeze: here, the fever frequently and
fatally rages.

In new settlements, where the land is neither well cleared, nor drained;
and particularly in the vicinity of the towns or habitations, which are
commonly placed at the lowest, and most insalubrious spots, for the
convenience of commerce, the dirty streams from the higher lands, and
often the filth of rivers, or of bays and inlets of the ocean, together
with decayed leaves, plants, and roots, and, in short, the whole
_exuviæ_ of the vegetable world collect, remain, and grow putrid; in
such situations also, the very weeds, and coarser plants, become rank
and exuberant, and, growing up only to decay, add to the fermenting
mass, which, by holding the impure waters stagnant, accumulates and
creates a noxious swamp: thus, is generated the hideous Python, who,
though often subdued by the sun’s rays, again lifts up his deadly front,
and can only be completely vanquished by the steady and persevering
industry of man.

When the effect of climate and situation shall be fully understood, and
duly estimated, the yellow fever may be no longer the scourge of our
merchants, our planters, and our armies: yet, after the long and fatal
experience the world has had, it is equally lamentable and surprising
that men should blindly continue in error, with respect to the spots
chosen for their towns and dwellings. Contrary to their better
knowledge, they prefer the convenience of commerce to the more important
advantages of health; and fix their habitations, as it were expressly,
upon the most unhealthy points of the globe. In every nation, and almost
every colony, striking examples might be selected of the strange folly
and neglect with which a circumstance of such serious magnitude is
regarded. Armies, perishing with fever, or dysentery, have been snatched
from threatened destruction, by change of station; and countries, almost
meriting the reproachful term pestilential, have been rendered
salubrious by attentions to the soil: still, on the score of health,
much remains to be done, by mankind fixing their residence where the
atmosphere is least exposed to noxious exhalations. But, alas! commerce,
and her seductive attendants, riches, dissipation, and luxury, deaden
the loud calls of Hygeia, with her more virtuous train, ease,
tranquillity, and happiness; hence it is to be feared that while man
remains ambitious, and wealth is made the public road to honors and
distinctions in society, health will continue to be only a secondary
object of his consideration. It is in the province of the physician to
expose this fatal error—to philosophy it belongs to remove it.

The fever of these regions seems, in many respects, to be governed by
the same circumstances as the endemic fever of Kent and Lincolnshire, in
England. When it attacks the natives of the country, it even assumes the
same type and symptoms: and I much suspect that if it could happen that
the temperature of these counties should continue as high as from 80° to
90° during the summer, and heavy rains should fall in July, the _yellow
fever_ would prevail in the months of August and September: but, while
the general heat of the summer shall continue below 70°, there can be no
fear of yellow fever being generated in England; and still less of its
being imported: for this is just as improbable as that the Kentish fever
should be carried off in a Scots trading vessel, and spread among the
inhabitants of Edinburgh, whose rocks, and streams, and healthy
mountains preclude its visitation.

In order to exhibit, in a more striking point of view, the similarity,
or I might say the identity of the intermittent, the remittent, and the
yellow fever of the West Indies, and to show that they are only
different degrees of the same disease, I may briefly enumerate the more
prominent points in which the resemblance is observed.

1. They run indiscriminately into each other—a quotidian, or a
remittent, sometimes becoming a malignant yellow fever; and a yellow
fever sometimes degenerating into a remittent, or an intermittent.

2. They are all connected with a derangement of the biliary system; and
a common sequel of each, is a chronic affection of the liver.

3. They all prevail, most extensively, at the same period of the year;
viz. the decline of the wet season.

4. A bilious vomiting is common to them all.

5. They are all, occasionally, attended with a yellowness of the skin,
and the eyes.

6. In their relapses, and frequently in their first attack, they all
bear a close alliance with the lunar periods.

7. The intermittent, the remittent, or the continued type; or, in other
words, the milder, the intermediate, or the more malignant form is
assumed, according to the state of vigour, the period of residence in
the climate, and other circumstances of the subject attacked.

8. They all, occasionally, affect the same person various times.

With respect to the alleged novelty,—the recent production or
importation of the yellow fever, it appears to be an error, which may be
explained away, by the fact mentioned above; viz. that during a period
of peace and tranquillity it is less frequent, and passes under the
milder name of seasoning fever; but from recurring in a time of war, it
creates new alarm, and consequently issues forth with a new appellation.
Its existence is, no doubt, coeval with the discovery of the colonies;
for it is mentioned by some of the oldest writers upon the subject of
the West Indies, and is pointedly noticed by Père Labat, an author who
himself experienced an attack of it in the year 1694. Were it fit to
offer a conjecture with regard to its duration, I might suggest that, in
all probability, it will continue to prevail, so long as the hope of
riches shall impel the inhabitants of cold climates to pay their
devotions to Plutus, by a pilgrimage to tropical fields; unless these
fields shall be so improved, by tillage, as to deprive the fever of the
aliment necessary for its support.




                               LETTER LV.


                                                      St. Domingo, 1797.

I have to regret that in consequence of the greater part of the
territory being occupied by the enemy, or, according to the more common
term, the brigands, whose out-posts approach very near to the stations
garrisoned by our troops, I have not the same opportunity of witnessing
the scenery and state of culture of this island, as I had of Barbadoes,
and Martinique: you will not, therefore, expect similar details.

From the horrible events which have passed within the few last years,
the general face of the country, as well as the towns, must have
necessarily undergone a melancholy change:—destructive anarchy—the
consuming flames of war and rebellion,—and a barbarous system of
devastation have combined to lay waste this once rich and beautiful
colony[17].

In the great chain of West Indian islands, St. Domingo lies between
Porto Rico and Cuba, thirty leagues east of Jamaica, in 19° north
latitude, and 69° west longitude. It is nearly four hundred miles in
length, and, at the broadest part, almost one hundred and forty in
width. Its distance from England is about 3500 miles. It has the honor
of having been chosen, by the great Columbus, as the territory upon
which he first established a settlement, when he made his splendid
discovery of the new world. From the natives of Cuba the inquiring
navigator ascertained that the island was called Hayti; but on making
the land, and touching at Cape St. Nicholas, Dec. 6th, 1492, he
denominated it Espagnola, in honor of the kingdom, by which he was
employed.

Proceeding from St. Nicholas Mole, along the coast, Columbus there fixed
upon a spot for erecting a fort, which he termed Navidad; but, this
being destroyed, by the naked inhabitants of the country, he, on making
his second visit in November 1493, commenced a settlement, at a more
promising site, and erected a town, which he named Isabella, in
compliment to the Queen of Castile, his patroness.

The city of St. Domingo, from which the modern appellation of the island
is derived, was founded in 1498, six years after the first landing, by
Bartholomew Columbus, the Adelantado or Lieutenant-governor, who thought
it expedient, during his brother’s absence in Europe, to remove the
colony to a more commodious situation on the southern coast, where he
caused a handsome city to be erected, naming it after the favorite saint
of that time, St. Dominick.

The French possessions are in the western division, the territory to the
east being occupied by the Spaniards. The part held by the French was
originally settled by a small detachment of those celebrated adventurers
from the little island of Tortuga, who, for more than half a century, in
daring and successful enterprise, committed such extensive depredations
upon Spanish property and commerce, under the avenging denomination of
Buccaneers.

The bigoted and indolent Spaniards, persisting in the error committed by
the early followers of Columbus, have expected to obtain riches,
suddenly, from the _bowels_ of the earth: but the French, with better
policy, patiently, though actively, bestowed their labour upon its
_surface_, which rewarded their industry, not only with greater
certainty, but with a more generous return.

In an island, which, in point of size, almost vies with England, many
varieties of soil and climate must, necessarily, be found; but the land,
in general, is said to be fertile, and the French cultivators have known
how to avail themselves of its fecundity.

Prior to the destructive revolution, this noble colony was the pride and
boast of Frenchmen; and justly so, for never were the gorgeous vestments
of nature and art combined with a more happy effect. While the great
parent of the island presented her stupendous mountains; her picturesque
valleys and acclivities; her lakes and rivers; her rude forests and wild
savannas; and her fine landscapes adorned with luxuriant groves of
perennial verdure—the hand of industry embellished the whole with
unprecedented richness and variety: the plains were loaded with sugar,
rows of limes and citrons forming the fences of the canes; the sides of
the hills were clothed with coffee; canals, and other well-constructed
aqueducts brought bounteous streams to the estates; excellent roads led
to the towns and dwellings; plantations of provisions, of cotton, and of
indigo; elegant houses, and substantial sugar-works; orange groves, and
orchards of other delicious fruits; neatly enclosed gardens, ornamental
hedges, and improved grounds appeared on every quarter to grace the
magnificent scenery. Thus, gifted by nature and enriched by culture, St.
Domingo, at the commencement of the French revolution, stood unrivalled
among the islands of the Atlantic, and was considered as the garden of
the western world.

At this high period of its prosperity every thing that could be required
for the comfort or convenience of the inhabitants—every thing for use or
health, for profit or pleasure, seemed to be here assembled: labour was
rewarded with bounteous returns; the exports of produce were abundant;
the elevated lands afforded a salubrious climate; handsome carriages,
and elegantly furnished dwellings, with cooling verandas, and marble
baths, were luxuries commanded by the planters; while their tables were
supplied with choice viands, and the finest wines and fruits, and,
surrounded with riches and tranquillity, they lived in the highest
enjoyment of sumptuous gratification.

The accounts which we hear related by the people of the colony
respecting the luxuriant crops, the delicious productions of the
orchards and gardens, and the exquisite improvements which embellished
the fine plains of Cape Français and the Cul de Sac, and the delightful
borders of the river Artibonite, might lead to a belief that these spots
were unrivalled on any part of the globe.

The superior state to which this interesting colony was advanced,
proceeded, in a great measure, from the fertility of the soil, and the
laudable industry bestowed upon its culture: but much was to be
attributed, likewise, to the favorable circumstance of the planters and
other inhabitants making it their settled residence—their chosen and
only home. They did not, like the majority of the British colonists,
devote their labour, exclusively with a view of obtaining a competency
to enable them to return and live in an easy and independent condition
among their friends in Europe; but they cultivated their estates, both
for use and comfort, looking no less to the convenience and decoration
of their place of abode, than to the profitable returns, which were to
constitute the substantial reward of their toil.

The plain of the Cape is situated in the northern division, not distant
from the city whence it derives its name. It is a level territory,
nearly fifty miles in length, and twelve in width, possessing superior
fertility of soil. Throughout its whole extent it was covered with rich
plantations of sugar, divided by rows of fragrant limes and citrons—the
fields and dwellings receiving all the advantages of ornamental and
productive improvement consequent upon being in the vicinity of the
largest town of the colony.

The plain of the Cul de Sac is in the western division, a little to the
east of Port au Prince. It is nine miles wide, and extends between
thirty and forty miles in length. This vast field was, likewise, spread
with luxuriant crops of sugar, and adorned with the handsome dwellings,
and other buildings of opulent planters; its bordering hills being
richly clad with coffee, and its prolific estates having not only the
benefit usually derived from being in the neighbourhood of a large and
populous town; but also the peculiar advantage of being watered, in very
dry weather, by means of aqueducts constructed, at great toil and
expense, for that purpose. The produce obtained from these fertile and
highly cultivated lands was immense, and the amount of profit, in
proportion to the labour and expenditure bestowed, was unusually
abundant.

The extensive trade, with the quantity of shipping, and number of
sailors employed in it, rendered this colony of great importance to the
parent-country;—and the attention given to its interests proved the
government to be duly sensible of its value. Even the distribution of
the streams was deemed a subject of sufficient magnitude to require the
establishment of an express committee, which was appointed to regulate
the concerns of the reservoirs and aqueducts formed in different parts
of the territory for the purpose of supplying water to these generous
and magnificent possessions.

The French part of the island was divided into three great districts—the
northern, the western, and the southern. The western was the most
populous, and contained the greatest number of sugar estates. Port au
Prince is the principal town of this province. In time of peace it was
the residence of the governor, and regarded as the capital of the
colony. It contained nearly six hundred houses, and fifteen thousand
inhabitants.

Cape François is in the northern division. This was the largest and
handsomest town in the settlement; having more than eight hundred
well-built houses, of brick or stone, and a population amounting to
twenty thousand individuals, of whom about three-fifths were slaves—more
than one-fifth free people of colour; and the rest whites. This place
being situated more conveniently for an expeditious communication by
sea, the governor was required to remove thither in time of war, when it
consequently became the capital, not of the northern division only, but
of the whole colony.

The southern division was not so populous as either of the others; nor
did it equal them in its returns of produce. Les Cayes is the principal
town of this district.

Cape St. Nicholas stands at the western point of the northern division.
This town consists of about two hundred and fifty houses, built of wood,
according to the common manner of the West Indies, and covered with
shingles.

The total population of the three districts was calculated at more than
half a million, of whom above thirty thousand were whites, nearly
twenty-five thousand free people of colour, and the remainder
slaves[18].

But, alas! after exhibiting so much of natural beauty, and improved
scenery, and being brought into such an enviable state of culture—after
rewarding the industry of its inhabitants with such a high degree of
opulence and general convenience, and enriching the parent-country with
its bounteous productions and extensive commerce—after giving birth to
splendid cities, multiplying its population, and raising itself to the
first rank among colonies, what a sudden and melancholy reverse has
befallen this once magnificent, but now most wretched and disastrous
settlement! All its distinguished advantages have been sacrificed to the
hypothetical doctrines of the French school of modern philosophy; and,
by one fatal error, this happy land has been exposed to the horrible
ravages of a cruel and blood-stained revolution.

Not aware that, in order to be benefited by their wild theoretical
improvements, mankind would require to be formed anew, the self-created
lawgivers of France, despising all the advantages of experience, and
disregarding the actual condition of the human race, overturned, at a
word, the majestic fabric of society! Under the pretence of a
high-sounding, but hollow humanity the indigent, the idle, and the
vicious have been set loose to ravage and commit every species of
injustice upon the opulent and industrious.

Unappalled by the mischievous effect which their frantic innovations had
produced, among a civilized people at home, the disorganizing system has
been extended to a barbarous population, accustomed only to savage life;
and the result has been precisely such as every person possessing the
least knowledge of the West Indies must have predicted. The fatal decree
of May 15, 1791, produced one wide and dreadful scene of devastation. It
was the signal for revolt and massacre. The whites, and the people of
colour, were declared by the National Assembly to be equal, and, too
soon, raging flames, and the destructive sword verified the levelling
manifesto! Ruin instantly spread around, and all was anarchy and
carnage. In a few dismal hours of the morning of August 23d, of the same
year (1791), the rich plain of the Cape was drenched with the blood of
its inhabitants, and all its fine buildings, and luxuriant plantations
were reduced to ashes. Restraint being removed, jealousy, suspicion,
revenge, and all the worst passions of uncivilized man were left to rage
in lawless sway. The most horrible cruelties which savage nature could
invent were practised upon the whites—men, women, and children—the aged,
and the tender infant, all were slaughtered with one undistinguishing
barbarity; and a scene of human woe was introduced such as no former age
had witnessed. Even death became a boon, for, too frequently, lingering
torture, mockery, and violation, were made to aggravate and prolong the
departing moments! With the same inhuman spirit, likewise, were the most
shocking enormities committed upon the dead bodies of those who fell.

The revolt began at one of the estates in the plain of Cape François, a
few miles from the city; but it was soon discovered that the slaves of
the other plantations were united in a concerted plot to massacre all
the whites, and set fire to the buildings, and the standing crops of
sugar.

The few persons who had the good fortune to save themselves fled to the
Cape, and, by announcing what was passing in the plain, spread terror
and consternation through the town. Great numbers of the inhabitants,
particularly of the women and children, immediately thronged on board
the vessels in the harbour for safety; while the major part of the
citizens flew to arms, and joined the troops in defence of the place;
which it was every moment expected would be attacked from without, or
destroyed by the rising of the blacks within its walls. The city was
thus saved for a time, but it has since, like the bounteous plain which
graced its environs, fallen a victim to the flames of an all-devouring
and merciless rebellion.

Your imagination will figure to you more correctly than it can be
conveyed by the pen, the splendid but horrible spectacle, which must
have presented itself to the inhabitants of the Cape, when the morning
dawn opened to their view the extended plain, with its numerous mansions
and sugar-works, and prolific fields of canes, all raging in a wide sea
of conflagration.

War, pestilence, and the blazing torch spread their ravages to the other
provinces, when the rich improvements, which bounteous industry had
given to this favored colony were destroyed, and all was converted into
one vast field of desolation and carnage.

The cruelties and atrocities which were committed cannot be stated in
terms sufficiently strong to convey an adequate idea of their enormity;
they form a picture of unexampled horror. It was calculated that within
a few weeks, after the rising of the negroes in the plain of the Cape,
two thousand white persons were massacred, more than one thousand
plantations destroyed, and twelve hundred families reduced from opulence
to absolute misery and want.

Civil war, waged with its utmost fury, and accompanied with the
extremest violence of malignant factions, has since prevailed in the
different parts of the settlement—the conflict being aggravated by the
most rancorous feelings of hatred and revenge; and each party aiming at
the total destruction of the other.

In addition to the multitudes of whites and of all the various shades of
colour, who have been murdered or executed—who have fallen in battle, or
been cut off by fatigue or the common disease of the country, a direful
pestilence which broke out among the crowded bodies of negroes, who were
assembled in revolt, carried off thousands and tens of thousands of
their numbers.

By all these causes, together with an extensive emigration, the
population is supposed to be diminished to less than half what it was
before the revolution, while this princely settlement has been reduced
to a wilderness, fit only to be inhabited by savages.

What benefit is likely to result from our invasion of a colony so
circumstanced it is beyond my ability to conjecture. All the troops
which England could spare, would not be sufficient to vanquish those who
are in arms, and to subjugate the different hordes who have revolted. If
it were possible to conquer the numerous bodies, against whom we have to
contend, still the settlement would require to be new-peopled, before it
could be again made subservient to the beneficial purposes of
cultivation and commerce; for it is not to be expected that men, who
have acquired a sufficient knowledge of their power to feel that they
are the stronger party, and have lived, during several years, in the
most licentious, and profligate freedom, can be brought to surrender
their liberty, however acquired, patiently expose their backs to the
lash, and again endure all the hardships and degradation of slavery.

It is probable that from the earliest period of the revolt, in the plain
of Cape François, in the year 1791, proposals were made, by the
emigrants, to the Lieutenant-governor at Jamaica, and, through him, to
the ministers of the British government, to induce them to send forces
to take possession of the colony in the name of the King of England. But
the war with France had not then commenced, and their overtures could
not be accepted, without violating the neutrality which it was desirable
that England should maintain (if it should be possible) towards her
turbulent and factious neighbour. After the horrible and exterminating
massacre of the whites, at the Cape, in 1793, and the burning of that
fine city, the circumstances were different: Louis XVI. having been
dragged to the guillotine, and the French Republic having declared war
against England.

The proceedings which were now adopted implied that ministers had been
deluded into the persuasion that the French part of the island might be
subjugated, and annexed as an useful possession to the British empire.
Accordingly Monsieur de Charmilly, who possessed a property in the
district of Grand Anse, was sent out from England, with instructions for
Sir Adam Williamson to detach troops from Jamaica to take possession of
such posts in St. Domingo, as the colonists might be willing to
surrender to the English.

The first division, placed under the command of Lieut.-colonel
Whitelocke, left Port-Royal in September 1793, and sailed for Jeremie, a
small town on the south-western point of the island, which place
surrendered upon terms previously arranged between the commissioners and
Sir Adam Williamson.

Soon afterwards Cape St. Nicholas accepted the same conditions, and a
small division of the troops from Jeremie was sent to that garrison; a
second limited detachment proceeding thither likewise from Jamaica.

Before the expiration of the year 1793, Jean Rabel, Arcahaye, St. Marc,
Leogane, and several other places yielded upon similar terms; and, in
consequence of these posts being so willingly given up to British
protection, an eager, but treacherous hope was imbibed that the whole
colony would submit without opposition.

But the direful disease of the country had already commenced its
ravages, and Sir Adam Williamson found himself in the distressful
predicament of being compelled to reduce the garrison of Jamaica to a
very small number, in order to detach a third division of troops for the
purpose of aiding their sinking comrades, in holding possession of the
places which had voluntarily submitted to be garrisoned by the English.

Discouraging circumstances soon began to cloud the prospect of a
successful issue: an offensive operation was undertaken against Tiburon,
a strong position near the S. W. point of the island, and failed in
consequence of the colonists not being able to raise the force, which
they had promised to bring in support of the attack. No troops had yet
arrived from England—nor could any more be spared from Jamaica; and, the
yellow fever, spreading with fearful malignity, was rapidly destroying
those already in the colony.

The year 1793 had not closed before it became manifest that the British
force was insufficient to give security even to the places which had
surrendered; and, seeing the numbers so speedily diminish, the zeal and
confidence of the inhabitants declined: those who had been neutral
became hostile; and many who were friendly preserved only a lukewarm
attachment.

The proceedings of 1794 were chequered with various marks of good and
bad fortune. A powerful reinforcement was expected under General Whyte;
and considerable bodies of colonial troops were forming under the active
and zealous Baron Montalembert, which, from their knowledge of the
country, and their power of resisting the destructive influence of the
climate, it was hoped would be extensively useful. But, without waiting
for these additional means, the season being favorable for military
operations, the few troops which remained effective, were employed at
the beginning of the year, in various enterprises; in all of which both
the officers and men conducted themselves with their accustomed bravery.
The post of Tiburon was again attacked, and taken; as was, likewise, the
fortress of l’Acul, near Leogane; but against a post called Bompard, on
the northern coast, the result was less fortunate. The soldiers acted
with the most determined spirit and good conduct; but were obliged to
retire from the attack, in consequence of being opposed by superior
numbers.

Notwithstanding these energetic measures, a knowledge of the sickly
state, and reduced numbers of the troops could not be concealed from the
enemy, who was, accordingly, emboldened to assume an offensive attitude;
and, in the month of April, Rigaud, the mulatto commander, proceeded
from Les Cayes, with a body of two thousand brigands, to attack the post
of Tiburon; but it was defended with the utmost gallantry, and the
besiegers were repulsed with uncommon slaughter. Fort l’Acul was also
defended with equal bravery, against a very determined and formidable
attack; but a few more such victories would have led to entire defeat,
since the weakened ranks of our little army must have been utterly
exhausted. In addition to these offensive operations, on the part of the
brigands, Jean Rabel, one of the posts, which, only a short time before,
had voluntarily sought the protection of the British, was lost by the
treachery of our supposed allies; who rose against their commanders, and
gave up the place to the enemy.

Such was the unpromising state of our affairs in the settlement, after
the lapse of only half a year from the first landing of the British
troops at Jeremie; and the fatal experience, which has since been
purchased at such a prodigious waste of treasure, and of the best blood
of our country, proves that it would have been wise to have withdrawn
the surviving troops at this period, and abandoned every attempt at
conquest in this baneful and deep-stained colony. But the government was
now pledged to the disastrous measure; many of the colonists were still
sanguine; and it was, perhaps, consistent with the principle on which we
had engaged in the contest, not to despair of ultimate success, without
making a more powerful effort to obtain it; yet, it was manifest that
whatever further advantage might be acquired, could only be gained by
decided force of arms; for the confidence of the inhabitants in our
power of giving them protection and defence was too much shaken ever to
be restored.

In the month of May General Whyte arrived, with a considerable body of
troops, to take the chief command: and the corps raised by the Baron de
Montalembert being considerably augmented, as well as peculiarly
effective, with regard to the climate, a brighter prospect seemed to
open; whence, in the minds of those who were enthusiastic, the
anticipations of success were, in some degree, confirmed.

After the least possible delay, in preparing for the attack, the army
moved against Port au Prince. Every thing that valour and good
discipline could effect was achieved; and the town surrendered on the
4th of June. This capture, highly honorable to the troops, was said to
be abundantly profitable, likewise, to those who survived; in
consequence of a crowd of shipping, deeply laden with colonial produce,
being taken in the harbour.

But, alas! even this splendid conquest, rich and glorious as it was,
bore, within it, fatal marks of discouragement. It was not gained
without a severe struggle, consequently not without a heavy loss; and
the enemy, although compelled to abandon the town, retired only to the
hills, at a short distance from it, where he established a chain of
posts, and, holding communication with Les Cayes the capital of the
southern division, placed himself in a strong position; and caused the
forces in Port au Prince to pursue a system of daily labour and nightly
watching, which proved more destructive to them than the sword. The
fever raged with such dreadful mortality, that, by the time the
defensive lines were finished, which it was necessary to construct for
the security of the garrison, scarcely a sufficient number of troops
remained to mount the different guards: and it was sadly afflicting to
find that the greater proportion of these brave men, instead of being
led to fresh victories, shortly perished by disease.

General Whyte seeing no hope of effecting any new enterprise, or of
making a further progress towards the general conquest of the colony,
unless he could obtain the aid of great additional reinforcements,
embarked for England, in September 1794, leaving the command to General
Horneck, who was compelled to act upon the defensive, having the
difficult task of maintaining with a feeble and inadequate force, the
posts which had surrendered to the British.

The weakened state of the army now disclosed itself, in every quarter.
Those of the colonists who were in declared opposition acquired
confidence; those who were wavering and undecided became hostile; many,
who had been friendly, grew timid and desponding—some proved treacherous
and deceitful; and only a small number remained faithful to the cause of
the English, whose assistance they had so earnestly invoked.

Such a situation was calculated to invite attacks from without, and to
encourage plots and conspiracies among our doubtful friends, within the
garrisons. Accordingly some of the places again fell into the possession
of the enemy! Our allies at St. Marc revolted, and gave up the town to
the republicans; and Rigaud the mulatto chief, advancing with augmented
means, retook Tiburon and Leogane, and was even daring enough to conduct
an enterprise against Fort Bizotton in the immediate vicinity of the
capital.

The year 1795 commenced with very unfavorable auspices. Not only had the
troops to struggle against the dreadful ravages of a malignant disease,
and to resist superior numbers, improved in discipline, and encouraged
to vigorous hostility; but their situation was rendered still more
distressing and perilous, in consequence of a spirit of treachery and
disaffection prevailing among those, with whom, and on whose behalf they
were acting.

It was scarcely to be expected, indeed, that the motley and
heterogeneous assemblage which had been brought together should long
continue to concert their measures in harmony and faithful combination:
co-operating with the British troops were bodies of French colonists, of
mulattoes, and of negroes, besides volunteer inhabitants of the towns
and parishes, and a corps of about three hundred reluctant Spaniards.

Opposed to these, in the north, was an army, commanded by Toussaint,
amounting to 17,000, or 18,000; consisting of republican troops, French
colonists, and revolted negroes: in the south was a division nearly as
powerful, under the command of Rigaud, formed of mulattoes, white
colonists and impressed slaves. These two bodies, although both
contending against the British, were in decided and inveterate
hostility, and only restrained by the presence of a common enemy from
waging a war of extermination against each other.

A third, and still more numerous band of revolted and runaway slaves had
retired to the woods, and the mountains, where, without engaging in the
existing contest, they were lying in wait, equally disposed to involve
either party in destruction.

Besides these there were various irregular hordes of brigands—ruffians
and desperadoes of the worst description, wandering about as marauders,
assassins, or mid-day murderers in different parts of the country; or
employing themselves in piratical excursions, from several points of the
sea-coast, in which they captured numerous small vessels, both English
and American; when they usually massacred the men; and carried off the
women, if any chanced to be on board, for purposes which might render
enviable the fate, even of those who were killed.

In the early part of this year a dark conspiracy was discovered among
the inhabitants of St. Marc’s, to confine the British commandant who had
taken the town, and to give the place up, again, to the enemy; and, soon
afterwards, a still deeper and more extensive plot was detected at Port
au Prince, by which it was intended to seize the town and put all the
English to death.

Viewing the actual state of the troops and garrisons at this period, it
was evident that every fair prospect of ultimate success had vanished.
There seemed, no longer, to be any object in carrying on hostilities in
this ill-fated country—the only effect of which would be to produce the
untimely death of multitudes of brave men, who must perish in a
fruitless contest.

Sir Adam Williamson and the ministers had been deceived by the favorable
and exaggerated accounts of interested individuals, respecting the
dispositions of the French inhabitants remaining in the island. The
greater number of the whites, who escaped at the time of the general
massacre, had emigrated: of those who were still in the colony many were
mere adventurers, some of whom had possessed themselves of the estates
of their murdered, or emigrated countrymen: some were neutral, and were
lying in wait to join the strongest party—and the few, who were of
better principle, being over-zealous, deceived themselves and others.
The majority had no view but that of regaining, or securing their own
property and plantations.

Notwithstanding all these discouraging circumstances the government,
probably from being further deceived, by the representations of sanguine
or designing colonists, after the Success of General Whyte at Port au
Prince, still sent out additional reinforcements, and even indicated an
intention of retaining and consolidating the conquests which had been
made, by appointing Sir Adam Williamson Governor-general of St. Domingo.

In this capacity His Excellency arrived at Port au Prince, and assumed
the government in May 1795. In April a body of troops, about seventeen
hundred in number, arrived from Ireland; and, in August, another
reinforcement of nearly a thousand men came from Gibraltar; yet these
were insufficient to make up the former losses. But, during this year,
as if flattering expectations still prevailed, preparations were made at
home for sending out two formidable expeditions, one to the Charibbee
Islands, the other to St. Domingo; and, from the scale of these
armaments being far more extensive, and the troops to be embarked, more
numerous, than upon any former expedition to the West Indies, it was
calculated, probably, that the force assembled might be competent to
overpower all opposition, and to place not only St. Domingo but the
whole of the French possessions to windward, under British dominion.

Possibly, if these unprecedented armaments could have been conducted,
unbroken, to their destination, the French Charibbee Islands might have
been subdued in the first campaign; and, from the known valour of the
troops, many new stations might have been conquered in St. Domingo; but,
from the wide destruction caused by the ravages of a malignant disease,
it was plain that all the forces which England could have spared, would
not have been sufficient to have maintained possession of the various
towns and posts, in the French part of the island, even if the whole of
them could, at this time, have been captured.

But the army, already in the colony, was not allowed to remain idle, in
the anticipation of being joined by the powerful reinforcement preparing
at home. Many brave enterprises were undertaken; the troops acted with a
noble spirit; vigorous efforts were made to distress the enemy, and he
was driven out of several strong posts, and a great extent of country;
but the soldiers were not sufficient to garrison the places which were
taken; and the white inhabitants, who were disaffected, plainly foresaw
that the very efforts, which were made in the cause, must soon work its
ruin: indeed, all that was effected served only to confirm the
improbability of subduing the entire colony, or annexing it, in an
useful condition, to the British possessions.

Toward the close of the year great preparations were made for attacking
the blacks, under the command of Dudonait, who occupied the hills above
Port au Prince, and had contrived to cut off the supply of water from
the town; but, from the numerous difficulties which occurred, the
assault was not made before the 28th of February 1796, when the brigands
were speedily defeated and dispersed by a spirited little army, under
the command of General Bowyer.

Owing to the repeated and fatal impediments occasioned by the
tempestuous weather at the end of the year 1795, and beginning of 1796,
the great body of troops, which had been assembled for service in the
West Indies, did not reach the colonies as was expected.

In March 1796, Sir Adam Williamson embarked for England, leaving the
chief command to General Forbes. In April, a reinforcement amounting to
between three and four thousand men arrived from Gibraltar. In June,
General Whyte, after returning from the expedition against the colonies
of Guiana, landed at St. Domingo, with four regiments, of the Cork
division of the great armament; and not long afterwards the fleet from
Cove came into harbour, with a further addition of five or six thousand
men: but instead of being in a state fit for active service in such a
climate, numbers of them were already enfeebled by sickness, and in a
short time the greater part became inmates of the hospitals, from whence
it was their sad lot to be soon carried to the grave. Still the honor of
the British flag was ably maintained: many vigorous efforts were made to
establish their possession, and the troops on all occasions displayed
the greatest bravery—but it was impossible to struggle against the fatal
devastations of disease. The fever now raged in every quarter of the
colony with accumulated and direful malignity. At Port au Prince, the
Mole, St. Marc, Mirebalais, and all the principal stations the weekly
returns exhibited frightful lists of casualties:—to very few remained
the strength required for military duty. From two hundred to six, or
even eight hundred men of each regiment were destroyed by this
relentless malady; and, of one regiment (the 96th), not an individual
escaped.

Notwithstanding the powerful reinforcements which arrived in the course
of this year, it appeared that, by the month of September, scarcely
three thousand effective men could be mustered, while the hospital
register announced a mortality approaching to thrice that number.

It was now discovered that the extreme waste of blood, and all our
fruitless efforts in this unhappy island, were attended, likewise, with
an alarming waste of property; and it was supposed that General Simcoe,
who was sent out with the appointment of chief governor, had received
instructions to inquire minutely into the state of expenditure, as well
as all other points concerning the British prospects and interests in
the colony.

General Simcoe arrived in the month of March, of the present year
(1797), and embarked again, for England, in July, when the command
devolved on General Whyte, who, like his gallant predecessors, has the
mortification of not being able to undertake any enterprise of magnitude
against the enemy, in consequence of the defective number of troops.
Viewing the many and great efforts which have been made, and the
multitudes of brave men who have perished, it is grievous to contemplate
the situation in which we now find ourselves—a situation not less
singular, than it is vexatious and distressing: the army, by a dreadful
mortality, is reduced to a skeleton, and we are left without the power
of engaging in offensive operations, while the rebel negroes are seen at
the very gates.

                                                                  Adieu.

  _Note_.—General Nesbit was appointed to succeed General Simcoe; but
  having died on the passage, and General Whyte having returned to
  England in April 1798, General Maitland was left in command.

  The Government at length despairing of attaching the entire colony to
  the British crown, sent out instructions, after the return of General
  Simcoe, for drawing in the garrisons, and reducing the number of posts
  occupied by the English troops, thus putting a stop to the dreadful
  sacrifice of human life, and lessening the enormous expenditure, which
  had been incurred in this hopeless, and too long continued attempt.

  By a well-devised arrangement with Toussaint, General Maitland
  withdrew the British forces on the 22d of April 1798, from Port au
  Prince and St. Marc, and their dependencies, and retired to the Mole;
  wishing, however, to possess the strong hold of the opposite point of
  the bay, as affording a more complete protection to our trade, and to
  the island of Jamaica, the General planned an expedition, and
  proceeded from the Mole, in the month of June following, with a view
  of retaking Tiburon; but, in consequence of adverse winds and raging
  elements, he was unable to land his troops, and compelled to abandon
  the enterprise.

  Emboldened by this failure, and by the reduced state of our army, the
  enemy, soon afterwards, made an attack upon the Mole, but they were
  driven back, with very considerable loss. In a short time they
  returned with a more formidable force; and were again repulsed with
  great slaughter. Still, it was evident that the Mole was now insecure,
  and, as there was no longer any hope of conquest, the General
  prudently directed his thoughts to the preservation of the brave, but
  feeble remains of his army.

  By a judicious negotiation with Toussaint it was agreed that the
  British should make an undisturbed evacuation of all the posts still
  in their possession; and, after a sad waste of blood and treasure, the
  island was wisely abandoned in October 1798; the troops being
  withdrawn, from Jeremie and the Mole, to Jamaica.

  So ended this lamentable enterprise, undertaken upon the deceitful
  assurances of a few adventurers, who, by representing the colonists as
  ready and desirous to surrender the settlement to British possession,
  led the ministers and Sir Adam Williamson to engage in the conquest
  with means infinitely inadequate. After five years of bloody and
  afflicting warfare, and the sacrifice of perhaps twenty thousand brave
  Englishmen, not one thousand veterans remained to experience the
  humiliation of quitting the island.




                               APPENDIX.


The British parliament having enacted a law, to the immortal honor of
this country, for the abolition of the importation of slaves into our
settlements in the West Indies, it remains to be ascertained how this
great work of humanity can be completed, by extending it to the
_emancipation_ of the slaves already in the colonies.

As a step towards the emancipation, the _abolition_ is of the highest
importance; but if the parliament, having passed a decree, shall content
itself without proceeding to that great ultimate object—the
emancipation, England will have only the unsatisfactory consolation of
exhibiting to the world an honorable and ineffectual example; while she
leaves other nations to make a profit of her humanity: for, so long as
slavery shall be permitted to exist in our colonies, and the African
trade be continued by other countries, it may be expected that slaves
will not cease to be introduced into the English settlements. Nor can
the importation be prevented by any prohibitory law or regulation of the
British parliament, however wise in the enactment, or vigilant in the
execution; since it will be the common interest of the colonists to
encourage adventurers in this illicit traffic.

It is manifest, therefore, that unless England proceed further, the
abolition will be nugatory, or even worse; for it will not only be
inadequate to its purpose, but it will be the means of throwing the
trade into the hands of the merchants of other nations; who, in
conducting it, may not be governed by the same humane regulations, which
the traders of this country were compelled to observe.

It cannot be supposed that any of the friends of the abolition will be
adverse to the emancipation, although various opinions may be held,
respecting the best mode of effecting it. Considering themselves as
following the genuine dictates of humanity, some may contend for an
immediate enlargement; while others, with sounder policy, will plead for
a more cautious and gradual liberation.

An abrupt and unlimited enfranchisement might prove injurious to the
slave, unjust to the master, and equally cruel to both. It would have
the effect of depriving the one of his bread, without teaching the other
to earn it. The dark ignorance which overclouds the minds of the slaves;
the bitter remembrance of former toils and severities; their natural
indolence; the debilitating languor produced by the climate; and the
facility of obtaining provisions without labour, would all combine to
prevent them from engaging in the settled habits of daily toil. Devoid
of instruction, and without any knowledge of the benefits arising from
commerce and the accumulation of property, they would not discreetly
meet the change to freedom, and assume, at once, the tranquil character
of sober and industrious peasantry. It is even doubtful, whether, if
they were hastily liberated, they could ever be brought to employ
themselves in a constant round of labour: to expect it, as the necessary
result of merely granting them their freedom, would be idly romantic. In
their present state of ignorance, both humanity and policy are opposed
to a sudden emancipation; for, instead of their situation being thereby
improved, it would be rendered lamentably worse.

Having been governed by the whip, and held subservient to the will of
others, they do not contemplate any intermediate stage, between the
master and the slave. Accustomed to the degrading habits of bondage
only, their minds are unprepared for freedom, and incapable of
comprehending its high advantages. If their bonds were hastily broken,
they would be all kings, and no subjects—all planters, and no labourers!
In the gloomy imbecility of their uncultivated faculties they would be
jealous of the whites, and suspicious of future chains: hence, to give
them unbridled liberty would be to let loose an irritated race of
beings, with a two-edged sword in their hands, which, in consequence of
the many vices and infirmities arising from a life of slavery, they
would either turn upon themselves, or wield to the destruction of those
about them. They would be thrown into inveterate confusion; the
cultivation of the colonies would languish; commerce would die away; and
the mother-country preserving no control, all would be violence,
outrage, and subversion, and they would persecute or destroy those who
had governed them, until every European were exterminated from the
settlements. Or, if they should not be roused to energy, by revengeful
feelings and a distrust of their former rulers, they would sink into the
torpid state of the uncivilized Indians, or of their darker brethren of
the African forests, and relapse into a state of rude and savage nature.
Their wants being few, and their food easily procured, their exertions
would be only commensurate to their cravings: disdaining labour, they
would repose under the soft shade of the plantain, equally regardless of
the riches of commerce and the honors of industry. The yam, the
plantain, and the pepper-pot, the banjar, the merry dance, and their
beloved Wowski, would gratify all their wishes, and crown their highest
ambition.

However simple the question of emancipation may appear, to those who
reason only from an abstract principle regarding humanity and the
natural rights of man, it is a subject of no less intricacy than
importance. Although urgent and imperative, still it needs much and
serious consideration, and cannot be acted upon without the utmost
caution. To judge of it properly, requires an extensive knowledge of the
interests of the colonists, an intimate acquaintance with the character
and disposition of the slaves, and much information with regard to the
relative policy between this country and the settlements. By hasty or
inconsiderate measures a serious wound might be given to the sacred
principles of humanity and justice, and infinitely more mischief than
advantage would be the result.

It is possible that, by proceeding with great care and discretion, the
loud calls of humanity may be obeyed, and the emancipation effected to
the great benefit of the slaves, and without serious injury to their
masters: but to force upon the blacks and their descendants, at all
hazards, a freedom, which they know not how to value or to use, would be
cruel and fatal.

It should be held, always, in remembrance that, in a mental point of
view, the slaves are but as children, having their untutored minds in a
more abject state of imbecility, than the lowest of the poor in the
meanest state of Europe. Much has been done, during many years past, to
meliorate their condition; but, in order to make it consistent with the
policy of the parent-country, the safety of the West India proprietors,
or the benefit of the negro race themselves, to abolish slavery
altogether, this beneficent and glorious achievement must be
accomplished by a steady perseverance in the use of slow and gradual
means.

A general system of education and moral improvement should be
established among the slaves; a due sense of their religious duties
should be inculcated; and they should be taught to estimate the high
value of freedom, and social intercourse: private punishments should be
prohibited; all invidious distinctions between the different colours
done away; and every man, of whatever hue, should be made subject to the
same laws, and the same rules of government.

The degrading ignorance, the sullen perverseness, and revengeful
feelings of the slaves should be softened by liberal instruction; they
should be gradually associated, and brought to a level with those who
are better informed, and more conversant with the arts of industry; and
they should be taught to understand the advantages which would arise
from continuing the cultivation and commerce of the colonies. A general
change in their minds and habits, must be either in progress, or
effected, before it can be safe or useful to grant them so great a boon;
or, rather, to restore to them so manifest a right.

Perhaps the best preparatory step would be, to bring a considerable
proportion of the _people of colour_, between the whites and the
negroes, to England to be educated, together with such of the blacks
themselves, as might display any peculiar marks of intellect; allowing
them to return as free subjects, possessing all the privileges of
citizens; and, in addition to these, annually to enfranchise a certain
number of the best-disposed slaves, until the whole should be free;
taking care, always to preserve a due proportion between the number
educated, and the number emancipated, and to make their liberation a
reward to superior merit.

In this manner, the individuals of all shades, and all degrees, might be
brought to mix together as people of the same state, subject to the same
laws, following the same pursuits, and feeling the same interests and
propensities. The coloured inhabitants would be made fellow-citizens
with the whites, and they would aspire to be—Englishmen! Among them
would be found merchants and planters, as well as tradesmen, mechanics,
and labourers: all hurtful jealousies would be done away, and the
Africans and their offspring having acquired a knowledge of the benefits
to be derived from industry, and the accumulation of property, the
cultivation of the colonies would be continued, and the commercial
influence preserved to the mother-country.

To attempt to enumerate the manifold advantages which would result from
such a system of enfranchisement, would be to enter too much into
detail. Among the most important of them would be that of preventing the
sad waste of human life, and of treasure, which is at present incurred,
by the necessity of sending out unacclimated Europeans to garrison the
colonies, and to execute the offices of managers, clerks, book-keepers,
and the like. These would not, as at present, be indispensably required.
The danger of revolt and insurrection would no longer exist; and the
people of colour being capable of performing all the duties of the
plantation and the counting-house, they would soon become possessed of
stores and estates; and the garrisons might be safely intrusted to them,
as the best defenders of their own property.

England having set a generous and splendid example, in being the first
to forego the unhallowed profits of a cruel and impious traffic in human
beings, might it not be an object worthy the magnanimity of the Prince
Regent of this nation, to carry the august work of humanity to its
consummation, by establishing an institution, for the emancipation of
the slaves, and for their education and improvement after they became
free?

If _a school_ were endowed, somewhat upon the plan of Christ’s Hospital,
or the Royal Military Asylum[20], and appropriated to the education of
the creole children of colour, it would immortalize the name, and prove
a lasting monument of the wisdom and benevolence of the Prince, who
should have the happiness of being its founder. Such an institution
might stamp the Regent’s government, which has been already
distinguished by such auspicious events, with unparalleled glory. It
would mark the period as an _era of humanity_, and His Royal Highness
could not fail to experience the grateful reward of feeling, that his
name would be uttered with prayers and blessings, not only by hundreds
of thousands of fellow-beings now existing, but by millions yet unborn!




                                 INDEX.


                                   A.

 Abbensets, Mynheer, hospitality of, i. 465, 531.

 Abercromby, Sir Ralph, arrival of, at Barbadoes, i. 235.
   His departure, i. 346.

 Abolition, important, with a view to emancipation, ii. 525.
   Nugatory, unless followed by emancipation, ii. 526.

 Abstemiousness, author’s, on the voyage, i. 78.

 Alligators, numerous at Berbische, i. 445.
   Used as food by the negroes, i. 447.

 Amsterdam, old town of, i. 473, 493.
   New town of, i. 424.
   A bush negro, execution of, i. 377.

 Animal flower, description of the, i. 184.

 Ants, construction of the nests of, ii. 149.
   Used as food for chickens, ii. 150.

 Ant-eater, description of the, ii. 146.

 “Arcadia,” plantation, i. 349.

 “Arends,” plantation, i. 482.

 Army, allied, in St. Domingo, how constituted, ii. 514.
   Of Toussaint, _ib._
   Of Rigaud, _ib._

 Assistant, medical, loss of, at Maiconny, ii. 94.

 Atmosphere, its influence upon the human frame, i. 249, ii. 470.

 Author, reflections of the, in Guiana, ii. 250.
   His farewell from Guiana, ii. 287.
   His case of yellow fever, ii. 96.
   And comrades, separation of, at Spithead, i. 46.
   Their detention at Barbadoes, i. 249.
   Their friendly contention respecting fever, i. 250.
   Their employment at Barbadoes, i. 251.
   Their detention at Martinique, ii. 353.

 Azores, passing the, indications of, i. 73.


                                   B.

 Ball, birth-day, at Martinique, ii. 321.

 Barbadoes, general aspect of, i. 80.
   Author’s landing at, i. 99.
   General observations regarding, i. 275.
   Its importance in the opinion of the natives, i. 277.
   The Montpelier of the West Indies, i. 280.
   The London of the West Indies, i. 346.
   Its seasons, i. 284.
   Its temperature, i. 209.
   Its soil, i. 282.
   Its plenteous supply of provisions, i. 258, 292.
   Bridge-Town, the capital of, i. 280.
   Its senate-house, i. 223.
   Civility of the inhabitants of, to strangers, i. 171.
   Clothing of the inhabitants of, i. 293.
   Their languid pronunciation, i. 294.
   Their mode of living, i. 287.
   Breakfast, i. 288.
   Dinner, i. 290.
   State of the slaves at, i. 295.
   Neglect of diseased and decrepit negroes at, _ib._
   Endemic disease of, or Barbadoes leg, i. 303.
   Its origin, i. 306.
   Cottages of white inhabitants at, i. 309.
   Cottagers, resemble their European ancestors, i. 310.
   Author’s departure from, i. 320.

 Barber and surgeon, Dutch association of, i. 475.

 Bathing, use of, by the French, ii. 430.

 Battle, effects of the preparation for, i. 331.

 “Bay-house,” sumptuous entertainment at the, i. 181.

 Berbische, capitulation of, to the British, i. 356.
   Government-house at, i. 439.
   Author’s voyage to, i. 395.

 Bercheych, M. visit to, ii. 63, 146.
   Peculiarities of, ii. 74.
   Romantic dwelling of, ii. 67.
   Visit of, at Fort St. Andrew, ii. 151.

 Bird-nests, peculiar construction of, ii. 148.

 Birth-day, His Majesty’s, celebration of, at Berbische, i. 441.

 Blackader, Mr. his case of fever, ii. 110.

 Blair, Mr. visit to the plantation of, i. 453, ii. 30.

 Boat excursion, hazardous, to Mole St. Nicholas, ii. 392.

 Boats, passage, pleasant, at Martinique, ii. 301.

 “Bob,” Doctor, remarks of, ii. 59.

 Boode, M. the successful industry of, ii. 277.

 Breakfast, at Port au Prince, ii. 432.

 Breeze, land, at Barbadoes, i. 81.

 Brigands, daring attacks of, at sea, ii. 408, 445, 515.
   Different bodies of, at St. Domingo, ii. 515.
   Defeat of, by General Bowyer, ii. 519.

 Bush, the forest so termed, i. 433.


                                   C.

 Cabbage-tree, description of the, i. 154.

 Calm, distress occasioned by, at sea, ii. 387.

 Campaign, military, reflections on a, i. 237.

 Cannon, firing of, on ship-board, i. 37.
   At Fort St. Andrew, i. 441.

 Cap à Fou, view of, at sea, ii. 444.

 Cape François, rich plain of, ii. 497.
   Destroyed, ii. 502.
   Town of, ii. 499.

 —— St. Nicholas, town of, _ib._

 Carlisle bay, enchanting view of, at sea, i. 81.
   Its environs, i. _ib._
   The general rendezvous, i. 64.
   The Thames of the West Indies, i. 244.

 Cassada, the use of, i. 383.
   By the Indians, i. 504.

 Cayes, les, town of, in St. Domingo, ii. 499.

 Ceremony, complimentary, of cooling the person, i. 526.

 Changuion, Princess, anecdotes concerning, ii. 245.

 Charmilly, Monsieur de, mission of, to Jamaica, ii. 507.

 Chasse-pilote, visit to the town of, ii. 312.

 Chigoes, mode of extracting, i. 270.

 Children, mode of carrying, in the West Indies, i. 215.
   Deformed, seldom seen in the colonies, i. 216.

 Christian, Admiral, arrival of, at Barbadoes, i. 346.

 Christmas, a festive period in the West Indies, ii. 140.
   The season of oranges, ii. 141.
   Temperature, ii. 140.

 Cleghorn, Doctor, arrival of, at Portsmouth, i. 27.

 Climate, effect of, on European soldiers, ii. 177.
   On a Dutch sailor, i. 267.
   Brunonian explanation of the, i. 266.

 Clouds, evening appearance of, at sea, i. 96.

 Cockswain, singular address of a, ii. 216.

 Codrington, or Barbadoes college, i. 191.

 Coffee, a plantation of, i. 338.

 Colleton estate, hospitality at the, i. 189.

 Colonists, conduct of the, at St. Domingo, ii. 513.

 Colony-paths, at Demarara, how formed, ii. 263.

 Colour, importance of, in West Indian slavery, ii. 331.
   People of, suggestion for educating the, ii. 531.
   Women of, at Martinique, ii. 430.
   At St. Domingo, ii. 406.
   West Indian mode of providing for the, ii. 136.

 “Commerce de Marseilles,” striking appearance of the, i. 54.

 Complaisance, West Indian, specimen of, i. 537.

 Contagion, the usual progress of, ii. 481.

 Convalescents, inspection of, on board the Lion, ii. 402.

 Convoy, Cork, arrival of the, i. 264.
   From Spithead, delays of the, i. 232.
   Return of the, i. 231.
   Crowded, dangers of sailing in a, i. 63.
   To Port au Prince, driven back by a storm, ii. 408.

 Corn, scarcity of, in England, i. 233.

 Cornwallis, Admiral, his noble retreat, i. 16.

 Costume, Spanish, prevalence of, in Jamaica, ii. 337.

 Cotton, mode of ginning, i. 477.

 Council of government, Demarara, ii. 267.

 Coup de soleil, a case of, at Berbische, i. 443.

 Court of policy, how constituted, ii. 268.
   Of justice, _ib._
   Commissary, _ib._

 Creek, Kamonuy-Woratilla-Mabeira, ii. 182, 183.

 Creoles, less efficient than Europeans, ii. 172.
   Why not subject to the yellow fever, ii. 475.

 Croix des Bouquets, visit to the town of, ii. 437.

 Cuba, view of, at sea, ii. 390.

 Cul de Sac, description of the, ii. 498.
   Ruinous state of the, ii. 437.

 Cupid, power of, in the wild woods, i. 502.

 Custom, foreign, of purloining provisions, ii. 163.


                                   D.

 “Daargradt,” plantation, i. 528.

 Dancing, fondness of the French for, ii. 323, 426.
   Excessive, of West Indian ladies, ii. 161.
   Of slaves, i. 126.
   At a wedding, ii. 325.

 Dangers, slight regard of, by military men, ii. 144.

 Davy, Lieutenant, hospitality and kindness of, i. 51.

 Dead-lights, fixing the, at sea, i. 59.

 Decree, French levelling, effects of the, ii. 437.

 Delicacy, European female, injury of, i. 124, 344.

 Demarara, capture of, from the Dutch, i. 328.
   Robust inhabitants of, i. 337.
   Coffee plantation, and orange grove at, i. 328.
   Negro sale at, i. 340.
   Hospitality at, i. 341.
   Situation of, i. 357.
   General observations relating to, ii. 258.
   Prejudice against the climate of, unfounded, ii. 259.
   Prolific soil of, ii. 260, 266.
   Importance of, to the British, ii. 276.
   Plantations of, how formed, ii. 262, 271.
   Roads of, how formed, and kept in repair, ii. 263, 269.
   Happy exemptions of, ii. 266.
   Its seasons, ii. 267.
   Its plan of government, _ib._
   Wages of labour at, ii. 278.
   Price of provisions, ii. 280.
   Of colonial productions, _ib._
   Of other articles of common use, ii. 281.

 Destination, author’s probable change of, i. 8.

 Diana frigate, author’s rescue on board the, i. 50.

 Difficulties sometimes easily subdued, i. 459.

 Dinner, at sea, description of a, i. 71.
   A farmer’s, at Barbadoes, i. 202.
   At Demarara, i. 381.
   At Port au Prince, i. 431.

 Diseases, surgical, fatality of, in Guiana, ii. 91, 284.

 Distance, Dutch mode of computing, ii. 180, 226.
   From Stabroek to “the falls,” _ib._

 Doctors, colonial, consulted on yellow fever, ii. 57.

 Dolphins, brilliant appearance of, i. 92.

 Domingo, St. author ordered to, ii. 233.
   Contemplations on the removal to, ii. 234.
   Author’s voyage to, ii. 384.
   His disappointments on arriving at, ii. 394.
   General remarks relative to, ii. 492.
   Discovery of, by Columbus, ii. 493.
   Distance of, from England, _ib._
   French division of, ii. 494.
   The garden of the West Indies, ii. 496.
   Sacrificed to an erroneous philosophy, ii. 501.
   Effects of the revolt at, ii. 504.
   Late population of, ii. 500.
   Late exports from, _ib._
   Importance of the waters of, ii. 498.
   Hopeless invasion of, by the British, ii. 505, 516.
   British ministers deceived regarding, ii. 516.
   Disastrous state of the British army in, ii. 521.
   Evacuation of, by General Maitland, ii. 522.
   City of, when founded, ii. 493.

 Dornford, Mr. perilous state of, ii. 318.
   Decease of, ii. 349.

 Dougan, Mr. rich plantation of, i. 350.
   Kindness of, to his slaves, i. 351.
   Captain, hospitality of, i. 383.

 “Draxhall,” plantation, i. 195.

 Drunkenness, Dutch military punishment for, ii. 22.

 Dutch troops, brave conduct of, at Essequibo, ii. 116.


                                   E.

 Echo, pleasing, at Fort St. Andrew, i. 441.
   Perilous, in the woods near Johanna, i. 481.

 Economy, army, defects and abuses of, ii. 126.

 Edmonstone, Mr. solitary abode of, ii. 185.

 Edouard, Père, his treatment of fever, ii. 319.
   His remarks on English practitioners, ii. 320.

 Elcock, Mr. house and garden of, i. 203.

 Eel, electrical, description of the, ii. 24.
   Attempt of two sailors to remove it, ii. 25.

 Emancipation of slaves, remarks concerning the, ii. 464.
   Suggestion for effecting the, ii. 525.
   Advantages of the, ii. 532.
   An era of humanity, ii. 534.
   Proposed institution for the, ii. 530, 533.
   Probable reward of its founder, ii. 534.

 Embarkation, author’s, at Port au Prince, ii. 440.

 Empiricism, impolicy of encouraging, i. 214.

 England, author’s delight on receiving letters from, ii. 126.
   Returning to, pleasing anticipations of, ii. 117.

 Englishmen, gloomy disposition of, i. 9.

 “Essendam,” plantation, i. 463.

 Essequibo, attack of, by the Spaniards, ii. 165.

 Excursion, marooning, at Barbadoes, i. 172.
   Up the river Berbische, i. 460.
   General remarks upon, i. 534.
   Overland, to “Arends,” i. 480.
   Grotesque, from “Arends” to “Johanna,” i. 522.
   Marooning, up the river Demarara, ii. 178.
   General remarks concerning the, ii. 224, 231.
   Memento of, left by the party, ii. 210.
   Into the woods for plants, ii. 187.
   Pedestrian, through the forest, ii. 192.
   From the post-holder’s to “the falls,” ii. 208.

 Exercise, in the West Indies, remarks upon, i. 122.

 Expedition, West Indian, preparations for the, ii. 517.
   Secret, from Barbadoes, i. 320.
   Military, from Port au Prince, ii. 434.

 Expeditions, by sea, uncertainty of, i. 208.
   Suggestions for the arrangement of, i. 209.


                                   F.

 “Falls,” at Demarara, description of the, ii. 209.

 Familiarity, French, remarks upon, ii. 406.

 Females, French, contrasted with the English, ii. 522.

 Festivities, birth-day, at Demarara, ii. 159

 Fête, negro, at Berbische, i. 448.
   De Dieu, ceremony of, at Martinique, ii. 338.

 Fever, intermittent, a striking example of, ii. 143.
   Mr. Beete’s case of, ii. 158.
   Coincidence of, with the spring-tides, _ib._
   Of Kent and Lincolnshire, remarks upon the, ii. 480.

 ——, yellow, dreadful malignity of the, ii. 60.
   Prophylactic means against, ii. 62.
   Supposed connexion of, with the tides, ii. 60.
   Persons most frequently seized with, ii. 80, 477.
   Predisposing causes of, ii. 81.
   Example of the insidious attack of, ii. 82.
   Assumes various types, ii. 90, 468, 481.
   Striking modification of, by season, ii. 132.
   Attacks repeatedly the same person, ii. 170.
   Negro attendants of the sick, not subject to, ii. 484.
   Exemption of the West Indian negroes from, explained, ii. 475.
   Animals not exempt from, ii. 138.
   Doctor E.’s remarks concerning the, ii. 254.
   General observations regarding the, ii. 467.
   Diminished malignity of, at St. Domingo, ii. 414.
   Opinions respecting the, at Jamaica, ii. 383.
   At St. Domingo, ii. 416.
   Fatality of, in St. Domingo, ii. 508.
   Effect of, on a party of foreign artillery, ii. 417.
   Striking example of, in the crew of the Bangalore, _ib._
   Sequels of the, ii. 416.
   Pleasing assemblage of convalescents from, ii. 85.
   Not produced by contagion, ii. 483, 478.
   In what season, and situation most prevalent, ii. 485.
   Blacks in the United States not exempt from, ii. 480.
   Supposed pabulum of, ii. 486.
   Different degrees of, ii. 490.
   Marks of identity of, _ib._
   Origin, and probable duration of, ii. 491.
   Case of, in a soldier’s wife, ii. 447.
   In an American sailor, ii. 448.
   Non-existence of, in England, ii. 498.

 Fibre, animal, influence of climate upon the, ii. 471.

 Fight, savage, between a negro, and a mulatto woman, ii. 125.

 Fireflies in Guiana, i. 355.

 Fiscal, duties of the, in Dutch Guiana, ii. 269.
   Le vieux, at Berbische, anecdotes of, i. 472.

 Fleet, Leeward Island, sailing of the, i. 36.
   Splendid appearance of, at sea, i. 57.
   State of, in a storm, i. 58.
   Dispersion of, by a gale, i. 40, 61.
   Return of, to harbour, i. 40.
   Almost incredible delay of, i. 313.
   Cork, vexatious return of the, i. 251.
   Arrival of the, at Barbadoes, i. 264.
   Sickly state of the, i. 252.
   Merchant, arrival of a, at Barbadoes, i. 257.

 Flying-fish, account of the, i. 92.
   Small race of, an indication of the shore, i. 94.

 Forbes, General, commander in chief in St. Domingo, ii. 519.

 Forces, in Guiana, interesting situation of the, ii. 115.

 Forest in Guiana, peculiar stillness of the, ii. 185.

 Fort Royal, at Martinique, description of, ii. 300.

 Fracas, between a mulatto woman and her daughter, ii. 356.

 Frame, human, accommodation of the, to different climates, ii. 469.

 Frenchmen, contrasted with Englishmen, i. 10.
   Facility of, in yielding to events, _ib._
   Passion of, for novelty and intrigue, _ib._
   For gaming, ii. 424.
   For dress and dancing, ii. 426.
   Rude custom of, at the public table, ii. 431.

 Friends, hope of rejoining, a support in danger, i. 66.

 Frivolity, French, examples of, ii. 347.

 Frogs, exposure of, for sale at Martinique, ii. 359.

 Fruit, plenteous supply of, in Guiana, i. 339.
   Plentiful and delicious, at Jamaica, ii. 380.

 Funeral, military, suspension of the ceremony of, ii. 156.
   Of a child of colour, at Martinique, ii. 312.
   Of a white Catholic, ii. 313.


                                   G.

 Gammell, Colonel, able command of, i. 427.
   Remarks of the soldiers respecting, _ib._
   Lamented death of, ii. 119.

 “Garden-Eden,” plantation, ii. 218.

 General Cuyler, transport, imminent peril of the, i. 240.
   Arrival of the, at Barbadoes, i. 238.
   Tedious passage of the, i. 242.

 George and Bridget, transport, arrival of, at Barbadoes, i. 259.
   The loss of the, ii. 263.

 “Golden Tent,” plantation, ii. 181.

 Government, wise, prevalence of virtue, the best proof of a, i. 226.

 Grapes, sea, at Barbadoes, i. 142.

 Grenada, island of, dangerous state of the, i. 234.
   Transport, author’s embarkation in the, i. 320.
   Method of preventing sickness in the, i. 328.

 Grove, cocoa-nut, view of, by moonlight, i. 211.

 Guadaloupe, the Circassia of the West Indies, ii. 311, 316.

 Guiana, coast of, expedition to the, i. 326.
   Climate of, i. 337.
   Remarks relating to the natural history of, ii. 274.
   Domestic fowls, and animals of, _ib._
   Annoyances common to, ii. 275.

 Guinea-man, American, description of an, i. 101.
   Liverpool, description of a, i. 107.
   The Venus, success of, against a privateer, i. 245.


                                   H.

 Habit, influence of, ii. 469.

 Hackleton’s-cliff, marooning party to, i. 172.
   Fine view from, i. 188.

 Hammocks, great convenience of, i. 495.

 Harpoons, use of, at sea, i. 90.

 Harrison’s cave, description of, i. 173.

 Hayes, Sir John, active service of, at Southampton, i. 4.

 Health, opposite effects of industry and indolence upon, ii. 260.

 “Helvetia,” plantation, i. 526.

 Heritage, Captain, illness and decease of, ii. 56.

 “Hermitage,” plantation, ii. 182.

 “Het Pleytanker,” plantation, i. 463.

 Heynemann, M. visit to, i. 484.
   Household of, _ib._
   Indian collection of, i. 487.
   Adventures of, _ib._
   Generous hospitality of, i. 510.
   Excellent qualities of, i. 513.

 Hilloughby, Mount, view from, i. 156.

 Hinde, Dr. visit to the plantation of, i. 135.

 Hollander, grotesque appearance of one, on horseback, i. 523.

 Horneck, General, distressing command of, at St. Domingo, ii. 513.

 Horse, author’s, loss of the, ii. 232.

 Horses and mules, use of, at Port au Prince, ii. 423.

 Hospital, Haslar, establishment of, i. 18.
   Importance of, to the nation, i. 20.
   Military, at Barbadoes, i. 210, 252, 314.
   At Demarara, i. 367.
   At Berbische, i. 425.
   At Martinique, ii. 303.
   Temporary, arrival of, at Barbadoes, i. 209.

 Hospitals, military, unlimited accommodation of, ii. 450.

 Hospital return, Guiana, for one year, ii. 284.
   Department, St. Domingo, alterations in the, ii. 415.
   Objections against, _ib._

 Hospital stores, arrival of, at Demarara, ii. 248.

 House, Government, at Port au Prince, description of, ii. 429.

 Hugues, Victor, noble conduct of the secretary of, i. 225.

 Hurricane, violent, at Portsmouth, i. 24.


                                   I.

 Indians, South American, description of, i. 514.
   Termed Bucks and Buckeen, i. 487.
   Different tribes of, i. 513.
   Their mode of procuring subsistence, i. 503.
   Dwellings of, how situated, ii. 227.
   How constructed, i. 505.
   Parties of, seen by the author, i. 434, 435, 437, ii. 27, 151.
   Despotic towards their females, i. 520.
   Polygamy practised by, i. 435, 520.
   Indolence and apathy of, i. 519, 271, 273, ii. 152.
   Slight curiosity of, i. 434, 493, 499, ii. 128.
   Implements of, i. 535.
   Their mode of sleeping, i. 492.
   Superstition of, i. 505.
   Apparel of, i. 516.
   Parental affection of, i. 502.
   Account of the poison used by, i. 489.
   Their common bow and arrow, i. 487.
   The poisoned arrow, i. 488.
   Precaution of, during intoxication, i. 520.
   Contrasted with Africans, i. 516.
   Employed to cut wood, i. 436.
   A hut of, visited in the night, i. 492.
   Visit to a town of, i. 498, 524.
   A family of, disturbed by the author, ii. 190.
   Sagacity and expertness of, i. 374.

 Indian women, visit to a dwelling of, i. 474.

 Industry, example of the effect of, at St. Domingo, ii. 399.

 Influenza, prevalence of, at St. Domingo, ii. 421.

 Insects, in what situations most abundant, ii. 229.

 Islands of the river Demarara, ii. 182.


                                   J.

 Jackson, Dr. directs the medical department in St. Domingo, ii. 396.
   Friendly attention of, to the author, ii. 411.
   His dwelling, and mode of life, ii. 412.
   Opinion of, relative to yellow fever, ii. 414.

 Jamaica, view of, at sea, ii. 366.
   Author’s voyage to, ii. 363.
   Arrival at, ii. 367.
   Tavern accommodations at, ii. 382.

 Jean Rabel, revolt at, ii. 510.

 Jeremie, and other towns, surrender of, to the British, ii. 507.

 “Joe’s River” estate, i. 179.

 “Johanna,” plantation, i. 476.
   Prolific garden at, _ib._

 John Bull, singular liberality of, ii. 444.


                                   K.

 “Kendall” estate, peculiarities of the manager of, i. 195.

 Kingston, passage to, from Port-Royal, ii. 368.
   Description of, _ib._
   People of colour of, ii. 370.
   Common, English aspect of, ii. 378.
   Ample supply of the market of, ii. 381.

 Kittarines, unfrequent use of, at St. Domingo, ii. 423.

 Kiwihi, an animal of Guiana, ii. 509.

 Kway, an article of Indian apparel, ii. 517.


                                   L.

 Laba, the, a favorite food in South America, i. 499, ii. 213.

 Labat, Père, his publication in 1701, ii. 134.

 La Bourgade, quarters of the medical staff at, i. 368.
   Description of the building, i. 380.
   Author’s return to, ii. 89.
   Temperature at, i. 385.

 Lady, English, ludicrous mistake of one, ii. 123.

 Land, grants of, in Dutch Guiana, ii. 270.
   Upon the coast, recent cultivation of, ii. 271.
   Consequences of the neglect of, ii. 274.
   First view of, from the Lord Sheffield, i. 79.
   Appearance of, at sea, _ib._
   Muddy water, an indication of, i. 326.

 Landsmen, conduct of, during a storm, i. 68.

 Lassitude, morning, exemption from, in hot climates, ii. 176.

 Life, military, uncertainties of, i. 45.
   Civilized, estimation of, i. 66.

 Lights, phenomenon of, around ships at sea, i. 94.

 Lind, Dr., friendly attention of, at Spanish Town, ii. 375.

 List, sick, happy reduction of the, at Demarara, ii. 164.

 Lively, sloop, expedition of the, against the brigands, ii. 445.

 Lodgings, extravagant hire of, at Jamaica, ii. 382.

 “Loo” plantation, contrasted with the “Sand-hill,” ii. 196.
   Laborious journey to the, ii. 213.
   Reduced temperature at the, ii. 214.

 Lord Sheffield, transport, i. 52.
   Separation of, from the convoy, i. 63.
   The steward of the, his sang-froid, i. 71.
   Process of cleaning the, at sea, i. 84.
   Arrival of the, in Carlisle bay, i. 75.
   Desertion of the crew of the, i. 167.

 Lucie, St. coasting view of, ii. 291.
   Barren soil of, ii. 293.

 “Lusignan,” plantation, prolific garden at, ii. 255.


                                   M.

 Mac ——, hospital-mate, anecdotes of, i. 259.

 Mac-Rae, Captain, kindness of, to the author, ii. 108.

 Maggots, breeding of, in a wounded Negro’s brain, ii. 135.

 Mahaica, author’s removal to, ii. 37.
   His severe duties at, ii. 38.
   Situation of, ii. 41.

 Manchineel tree, i. 142.

 Marc, St., conspiracy at, ii. 515.

 March, a healthy season, in Guiana, ii. 248.

 Martinique, author’s voyage to, ii. 289.
   Coasting view of, ii. 294.
   Description of, ii. 308.
   Fine scenery of, ii. 309.
   Temperature of, ii. 317.

 Master, Dr., embarkation of, for America, ii. 395.
   His farewell meeting with the author, _ib._

 Meat, living, purchased, at market, i. 120, ii. 475.

 Mechanics, extravagant hire of, in Guiana, ii. 175.

 Medicine, practitioners in, at Barbadoes, i. 212.
   Mode of remunerating at Demarara, ii. 279.
   At Martinique, ii. 361.

 Mermaids, existence of, asserted, ii. 3.

 Mills, cotton, description of, i. 214.

 Mole, St. Nicholas, view of, at sea, ii. 391.
   Account of, ii. 397.
   Voyage to, from Port au Prince, ii. 439.
   Sterile appearance of its environs, ii. 451.
   Insecurity of, ii. 452.

 Moon, appearance of the, at sea, i. 96.

 Motherbank, author’s perilous voyage to the, i. 48.

 Mulatto, cruel treatment of a, at Essequibo, ii. 142.
   Description of one, singularly deformed, ii. 218.

 Mulattoes, their proud ideas of distinction, ii. 29.

 Mules, mode of feeding, at Martinique, ii. 357.
   Utility and sagacity of, in the Alps, i. 186.

 Musquitoes, i. 355, 369, 384, 532.
   Absence of, in the deep forests, ii. 187, 189.
   Less annoying in Martinique, than in Guiana, ii. 336.
   Effect of the bitings of, ii. 337.


                                   N.

 Negroes, treatment of, on the passage from Africa, ii. 455.
   Expertness of, at sea, i. 169. ii. 455.
   Their food, _ib._
   Their sleeping-birth, _ib._
   Preparation of, for sale, ii. 456.
   Sale of, i. 358, 429. ii. 236, 314.
   Interesting family of, at a sale, ii. 238.
   Affecting conduct of one, at a sale, i. 431.
   Affection of, towards each other, i. 361, 431. ii. 238.
   Their music, i. 127.
   Their mode of dancing, i. 128, 448.
   Their ceremony of interment, i. 130.
   Their fondness for heat, i. 193, 299.
   For smoking, i. 299.
   For the water, i. 317.
   Severe labour supported by, i. 468. ii. 216.
   A French corps of, at Barbadoes, i. 208.
   A corps of, entitled South American Rangers, i. 357. ii. 427.
   Drilling of the “awkward squad,” ii. 128.
   Doubtful policy of training, to arms, ii. 130.
   How affected by change of climate, ii. 473.
   Account of one denominated a white negro, ii. 241.
   Account of one, a piebald negress, ii. 242.
   Descent from, an indelible stain, ii. 330.

 ——, “Bush,” or runaway slaves, i. 370.
   Expedition against the, i. 372.
   Encampments of the, i. 374.
   Ringleaders of the, punished, i. 376, 387.

 Newland, Mr. decease and funeral of, ii. 154.

 News, anxious desire for, i. 97, 129, 207. ii. 157.
   On arriving in Carlisle bay, i. 98.

 Newspapers, high value of, to Englishmen, i. 230.

 Nichol, Mr. arrival of, at Barbadoes, i. 239.

 “Notes,” author’s promise to continue the, ii. 287.

 Noyeau, Martinique, ii. 359.


                                   O.

 Oars, use of, as sails, i. 169.

 Obesity, the causes of, i. 522.

 Officers, Bacchanalian conduct of, at Berbische, i. 448.
   Assumed illness of one, at M. Heynemann’s, i. 491.
   Medical, arrival of, at Demarara, ii. 116.
   Fatality from fever, among the, ii. 37, 118, 305.
   New regulations for, ii. 249.
   Multiplied titles of the, ii. 250.

 Ongre, Mynheer, plantation of, i. 440.

 “Ooest Vriesland,” the residence of the Post-holder, ii. 203.

 Operations, military, uncertainty of, i. 329.

 Orchard, Colonel Williams’s, i. 159.

 Out-posts, view of, near Port au Prince, ii. 409.


                                   P.

 Packet, arrival of the, at Barbadoes, i. 228.

 Passengers, on board the Lion, ii. 402, 441.
   On board the Roebuck, ludicrous conduct of, ii. 365.

 Patriot, conduct of a soi-disant, ii. 235.

 Peace, supposed indications of, ii. 318.

 Pear, avagata, described, ii. 433.

 Pelican, sloop, action of the, with a privateer, ii. 449.

 “Pens” and villas, at Jamaica, ii. 377.

 Petit-maitre, example of a, in the forest, ii. 197.

 Petroleum, mode of procuring, at Barbadoes, i. 153.

 Pezano, an eccentric character, ii. 202.
   Arrival of, at the Post-holder’s, ii. 204.

 Pierre, St. beautiful approach to, from the sea, ii. 295.
   Description of, ii. 296.
   Inhabitants of, _ib._
   Accommodations at, ii. 297.
   Price of provisions at, ii. 298.

 Pine, culture of the, at Barbadoes, i. 163.
   In England, i. 164.

 Piworree, a liquor used by the Indians, i. 504.

 Plants, medicinal, natural growth of, i. 441.

 Plantains, an important article of food, ii. 142.

 Plantations, between the rivers Demarara and Berbische, ii. 272.
   Average produce of, ii. 273.
   Their requisite proportion of stock, _ib._

 Pleasures, alloyed by climate, i. 339.

 Plunder, shameful, on board English ships, ii. 441.

 Poison, and pabulum of animal life, ii. 229.

 Porcupine, Peter, the writings of, ii. 404.

 Porpoises, method of taking, i. 90.
   Singular habit of, i. 91.

 Port au Prince, author’s voyage to, ii. 401.
   Observations on arriving at, ii. 409.
   Morning scene at, ii. 411.
   Situation and construction of, ii. 428.
   Contrasted with St. Pierre, ii. 430.
   Supply of provisions at, ii. 431.
   The capital of the western division, ii. 499.
   Capture of, by General Whyte, ii. 511.
   Conspiracy at, ii. 515.

 Port-Royal, extreme heat of, ii. 367.
   Appearance of, in a storm, ii. 385.

 Portsmouth, i. 13.
   Contrasted in war and peace, i. 12.
   Its dock-yard, i. 13.
   Its ramparts, i. 21.
   Its fortifications, _ib._
   Embarkation scene at, i. 30.

 Post-holder, duties of, in Guiana, i. 511.
   Accommodations at the dwelling of the, ii. 206.
   Re-visit to the, ii. 211.

 Potatoe, altered by climate, ii. 470.

 Press-gangs, in Carlisle bay, i. 220.

 Prickly heat, i. 78.
   Dr. Cleghorn’s impatience respecting, _ib._
   Attacks the author, i. 368, 428.

 Priest, author officiates as, ii. 55.

 Prize-money, author’s prospect of receiving, i. 344.

 Processions, funeral, depressing effect of, ii. 9.

 Provisions, fresh, hurtful to the sick, ii. 157.
   Scarcity of, i. 357, 382.
   Purchase of, from the Spaniards, i. 357.
   Supply of, at Berbische, i. 452.

 Punishment, Dutch, aquatic mode of, i. 241.

 Pyeis, Indian priests, i, 505.


                                   R.

 Race-course, Jamaica, ii. 376.

 Rations, government, importance of, ii. 283.

 Regiment, 93d, gentlemanly mess of the, i. 426.

 Religion, neglect of, in the Dutch colonies, i. 337.

 Roboloski, M. character and hospitality of, ii. 7.

 Roebuck, packet, chased by a privateer, ii. 364.

 “Runaway” estate, at Barbadoes, i. 158.


                                   S.

 Sailors, British, a race of heroes, i. 18.
   Indifference of, in danger, i. 68.
   Their degrees of comparison, i. 70.
   Dangerous situation of a party of, i. 45.
   Coarse witticisms of, i. 43.

 “Sand-hill” estate, its situation—temperature—inhospitality, ii. 193,
    194.

 “Sans Souci,” plantation, i. 464.

 St. Andrew, Fort, situation of, i. 422.

 St. Vincent, island of, endangered by Charibs, i. 234.

 “Savonette,” plantation, i. 492.

 Scenery, change of, up the Demarara river, ii. 200.

 Schacomynghy, or lion-monkey, ii. 27.

 Scholten, M. chirurgien-major, at Berbische, i. 493.

 Schneider, M. journey of, up the river Berbische, i. 467.

 Scotland, a district in Barbadoes, i. 149.

 Scotsman, eccentric life of a, at Demarara, ii. 190.

 Scott, Dr. assistant inspector, at St. Domingo, ii. 396.

 Season, the dry, salubrity of, ii. 111.
   Pleasant approach of, ii. 175.
   Happy effect of, at Mahaica, ii. 119.
   Occasional showers of, i. 209.
   The wet, description of, ii. 138.
   Indications of, ii. 295.
   At Demarara, remarks upon, ii. 253.
   At Martinique, ii. 336.

 Sensibility, European female, destroyed, i. 343.

 Sharks, stupidity of, i. 91.
   Mode of catching, _ib._

 Ship, security of a, at open sea, i. 67.
   Every sailor’s, the “best in the world,” i. 85.
   Leaky, horrors of a, at sea, i. 241.
   In distress, awful appearance of a, i. 61.

 Simcoe, General, chief governor, at St. Domingo, ii. 521.

 Slaves, first specimen of, seen by the author, i. 296.
   Example of the labour of, at Barbadoes, i. 122.
   In Guiana, i. 533. ii. 199, 214, 216, 283, 347.
   At Jamaica, ii. 371.
   Their hard lot, i. 216, 274, 342, 363, 388. ii. 45, 52.
   Punishment of, i. 348, 389, 470. ii. 46, 174, 333.
   A gang of, commanded by a female driver, ii. 121.
   Character of, i. 119, 302. ii. 111, 210, 315, 354, 461, 529.
   And slavery, general observations upon, ii. 454, 465.
   Treatment of, by opulent planters, i. 298. ii. 459.
   By poorer owners, _ib._
   By the French, ii. 329.
   French mode of punishing, _ib._
   Their huts, i. 143
     —food, i. 298
     —clothing, i. 299.
   Their mode of spending the Sabbath, i. 126. ii. 131.
   Their ideas relative to freedom, ii. 167, 463.
   To crimes and punishments, ii. 169.
   Female, their views respecting liberty, ii. 168.
   Solicitation of one, to be purchased, i. 342.
   Their habit of thieving, i. 302.
   Employed as running footmen, i. 139, 162, 482.
   European feelings concerning, i. 139, 163.
   Happy gang of, at Mr. Dougan’s, i. 352.
   At Mr. Waith’s, i. 197.
   Cottages, and gardens of, i. 353.
   A shocking instance of barbarity towards, ii. 45.
   Cruel punishment of one, by a Dutchman, ii. 333.
   Funeral of one who was murdered, ii. 47.
   Protracted sufferings of, from flogging, ii. 52.
   Conduct of a captured party of, ii. 315.
   Gratitude of one, named Prince, ii. 173.
   Surprise of a party of, at “the Falls,” ii. 210.
   Purchased to let on hire, ii. 278.
   The price of, ii. 457.
   Number of, in Demarara and Essequibo, ii. 277.
   The sad effects of governing, ii. 462.
   Remarks concerning the emancipation of, ii. 464, 525.
   Probable importation of, notwithstanding the abolition, ii. 526.

 Slave-trade, remarks concerning the, ii. 465.

 Slavery, contrasted with military duty, ii. 130.
   Its effect, in debasing the mind, i. 469, ii. 461.
   On what ground condemned, ii. 460.

 Slave-vendue, a fête at Berbische, i. 429.

 Smoking, acquired habit of, i. 532.

 Snake, an enormous one, at Berbische, ii. 2.

 “Social rock,” at Colonel Williams’s, i. 160.

 Soldiers, intrepid character of, i. 8.

 Southampton, the camp at, i. 6.

 Spanish town, author’s visit to, ii. 373.
   Description of, ii. 376.
   Its environs, _ib._
   Remarks on the road, scenery, and traffic, ii. 374.

 Specimens of Indian implements, &c. shipped for London, ii. 282.

 “Spendlove” estate, i. 196.

 Spithead, a severe gale at, i. 40.

 Spring, boiling, description of a, i. 151.

 Spy, a French one, at Barbadoes, i. 234.

 Stabroek, town of, i. 332.
   Hospitality of an inhabitant of, i. 334.

 Stadtholder, his birth-day festivities, ii. 235.

 Stanley, transport, supposed loss of the, i. 41.
   Arrival of the, at Barbadoes, i. 99.

 Stewart, Mr. his plantation of ginger, i. 188.

 Stone, a rock of, novelty of viewing, ii. 208.

 Sugar, mode of claying, i. 194.

 Sun and moon, view of the, from the ocean, i. 95.

 Supper, a Dutch lady’s, ii. 162.
   —scene, at Martinique, ii. 323.

 Surgeons, regimental, new regulations for, ii. 249.


                                   T.

 Tamarind tree, description of the, i. 246.
   Its fruit disregarded, i. 247.

 Temperature, at Barbadoes, i. 209, 256.
   At Demarara, i. 385. ii. 120, 190, 212, 214, 224.
   At Jamaica, ii. 380.
   In different colonies, remarks upon, ii. 419.
   Extreme, at mid-day, in a calm, ii. 388.

 Tiburon, unsuccessful attack of, by the British, ii. 508.
   Successful, ii. 509.
   Unsuccessful attack of, by Rigaud, ii. 510.
   Successful, ii. 513.

 Tides, supposed influence of, in fever, ii. 60, 109, 125.

 Tigre, ship of war, state of, after a battle, i. 16.

 Tonquin bean, enormous tree of the, i. 507.

 Towns, site of, usually ill-chosen, ii. 422, 488.

 Trade-wind, cordial welcome of the, i. 76.

 Transmigration, belief of negroes in, i. 133.

 Transports, for troops, observations on, i. 253.
   Contrasted with slave-ships, i. 254.

 Travelling, West Indian mode of, i. 481.

 Trees, enormous growth of, in South America, ii. 211.

 Tropic, ceremony at crossing the, i, 86.

 Turtle, abundant in St. Domingo, ii. 381.
   Given to the sick, ii. 450.
   —shells, use of, in Jamaica, _ib._


                                   U.

 Ulysses, author’s embarkation on board the, i. 29.
   Inconvenient accommodations of the, i. 33.
   Her altered destination, i. 45.

 United States, author’s intended visit to the, ii. 453.


                                   V.

 Van Battenburg, Governor, author’s introduction to, i. 439.
   His accurate knowledge of the English language, i. 449.
   Hospitality of, i. 439, 452.
   Madame, i. 251.

 Vandyke, deputy post-holder, i. 494.

 Vegetables, rapid growth of, in St. Domingo, ii. 400.

 “Vigilantie,” plantation, i. 469.

 Voltigeur, sloop, execrable accommodations of the, i. 396.
   Author’s sufferings on board the, i. 397.
   Her repeated disasters and delays, i. 403.


                                   W.

 Waith, Mr. humane character of, i. 200.

 War, vicissitudes of, i. 28.

 Washing process, in Barbadoes, i. 146.

 Water, Thames, depuration of, at sea, i. 39.
   Scarcity of, in Guiana, ii. 176.
   How obtained, in the dry season, ii. 266.
   How supplied, at Port au Prince, ii. 422.
   Lucid appearance of, in the river Berbische, i. 535.
   Drinking, prejudice against, in the West Indies, i. 250.

 West Indies, picture of the, correctly anticipated, i. 80.
   Example of danger, from the climate of the, ii. 115.
   The grave of Europeans, i. 7.

 West Indian, tavern, description of a, i. 110.
   Hostess, i. 114.
   Dinner, i. 112.
   Attendants, i. 114.
   Harbours, the drawing-rooms of merchantmen, i. 84.

 Whyte, General, arrival of, at St. Domingo, ii. 511.
   Captures Port au Prince, _ib._
   His return to England, ii. 513.
   To St. Domingo, ii. 519.
   Humanity of, to the sick, i. 366.
   Author joins, at Port au Prince, ii. 410.

 Wife, a colonist’s, inhumanity of, i. 369.
   A soldier’s, remarks of, at a negro dance, i. 129.

 Williams, Colonel, visit to, at Barbadoes, i. 147.

 Williamson, Sir Adam, deceived by colonists of St. Domingo, ii. 516.
   Appointed governor-general of St. Domingo, ii. 517.

 Wine, method of cooling, in the West Indies, i. 113.

 Wool, influence of climate upon, ii. 470.


                                   Y.

 Yaw-house, description of a, i. 457.

 Young, Mr. his account of fever in the ship Bangalore, ii. 417.

 Yowahoos, evil spirits, of the Indians, i. 505.


                                   Z.

 “Zuidwyk,” plantation, ii. 5.


                                THE END.


           S. Gosnell, Printer, Little Queen Street, London.

-----

Footnote 1:

  Dr. Monro.

Footnote 2:

  Some medical men contend that fevers which are communicated by
  contagion, cannot attack the same person twice. If there be any
  foundation for the opinion, it may stand as an additional proof that
  the yellow fever is not a contagious disease.

Footnote 3:

  Many of these worse than useless distinctions have lately been done
  away, and some general regulations established; but still the system
  is incomplete; and much yet remains to be done, before the medical
  department can take on that uniformity of character, or proceed with
  that uniformity of movement, which is requisite in so important a
  branch of the military body.——1805.

Footnote 4:

  This regulation, which certainly had its advantages, has been found a
  source of cavil and vexation, and it has since been made an order of
  government that the fiscal should have his specific reward, and the
  whole of the fines be devoted to the ways and means of the colony. But
  it is to be feared, that this arrangement may make him less zealous in
  executing the duty, and that the roads and bridges may not,
  henceforth, be found in such excellent repair.

Footnote 5:

  The Dutch weights and measures exceed by about ¹⁄₁₂th part those of
  England.

Footnote 6:

  Since these notes were written the number of estates has much
  increased, and several that were only planted with cotton, now produce
  the most luxuriant crops of sugar.

Footnote 7:

  A large species of wasp.

Footnote 8:

  Already increased to upwards of 80,000.——1805.

Footnote 9:

  Unhappily, with a view to make the sea voyage as short as possible,
  Dr. Master took his passage on board a vessel bound to South Carolina,
  where the climate was not less insalubrious than at St. Domingo, and
  where, soon after his arrival, he relapsed, and fell a victim to
  disease.

Footnote 10:

  The pen and the politics of this author have since made him generally
  known to the British public.

Footnote 11:

  In the “Select and posthumous Works” of the celebrated Monsieur de la
  Harpe, it is related, that at a French table in 1788, where the
  company was numerous and fashionable, “Chamfort had been reading some
  of his impious and libertine tales, and the fine ladies had heard them
  without once making use of their fans.”

Footnote 12:

  Small carriages drawn by single horses.

Footnote 13:

  Many excellent laws have been enacted in various colonies, for the
  protection of the negroes; but as the testimony of a slave is not
  admitted in evidence, these laws are of little avail.

Footnote 14:

  These remarks were written in the year 1797; since which, the African
  slave-trade has been abolished, by an act of Parliament.

Footnote 15:

  It is probable that our troops might be rendered nearly as effective
  for service in the West Indies, as in Europe, if it were possible, in
  all cases, to prepare them for the climate by slow and gradual
  approaches; as, for instance, by first letting them serve, for a time,
  at Gibraltar, and afterwards employing them, for a year or two, in the
  more windward islands, such as Barbadoes or Antigua, before they were
  sent upon duty to the other colonies.

Footnote 16:

  In the year 1793, a body of emigrants from St. Domingo, amounting to
  upwards of 300 in number, who had made their escape from that colony,
  under all the circumstances of the most afflicting depression, arrived
  at Philadelphia, at the time when the yellow fever raged with its
  utmost malignity; yet, not one of them was attacked with the malady,
  which was then desolating the town. As if expressly to make this fact
  the more striking, it happened likewise that the emigrants who arrived
  at the same distressing period, from Ireland, the States of Germany,
  and other parts of Europe were attacked by the fever, even in greater
  proportion than the Americans themselves. It is not the property of
  any contagion to exhibit such marked partialities. The autumnal
  temperature of Philadelphia was congenial to the emigrants from St.
  Domingo: they were acclimated, and therefore not susceptible of the
  disease; while those from Europe, being the inhabitants of colder
  regions, were in a peculiar degree predisposed.

Footnote 17:

  This letter has been altered since it was originally written, and the
  author has availed himself of the facts stated by Mr. Bryan Edwards,
  in his “History of the British Colonies in the West Indies.”

Footnote 18:

  The following summary is given, by Mr. Bryan Edwards, of the state of
  agriculture, and of the average exports, in the French division of St.
  Domingo, at the beginning of the year 1790.

                               ESTATES.
      431 Plantations of clayed sugar.
      362 ——————— moscovado.
    —————
      793

    3,117 Plantations of coffee.
      789 ——————— cotton.
    3,160 ——————— indigo.
       54 ——————— cocoa.
      623 Smaller settlements of grain, yams, and other vegetables.
    —————
    8,536 Establishments of all kinds throughout the colony.

 EXPORTS.                                      _lbs._ _Value in Livres._
 Clayed sugar                              58,642,214         41,049,549
 Moscovado sugar                           86,549,829         34,619,931
 Coffee                                    71,663,187         71,663,187
 Cotton                                     6,698,858         12,397,716
 Indigo, hhds.                                951,607          8,564,463
 Melasses, hhds.                               23,061          2,767,320
 An inferior sort of rum called taffia,
   hhds.                                        2,600            312,000
 Raw hides, No.                                 6,500             52,000
 Tanned ditto, No.                              7,900            118,500
                                                             ———————————
 Total value at the ports of shipping, in
         livres of St. Domingo[19]                           171,544,666
                                                             ———————————

Footnote 19:

  Being equal to £4,956,780 sterling.

Footnote 20:

  The principal establishment might be fixed in or near London, and this
  might be connected with collateral schools, as branches of the same
  institution, in the several colonies; the whole being subject to the
  management of a board or committee, appointed expressly for conducting
  the affairs of the emancipation; and so regulated as to receive the
  approbation and assistance of the West India proprietors. In doing
  justice to the slaves, due care should be taken _to provide a full
  compensation for their owners_; otherwise, no plan of enfranchisement
  can be equitable, or administered with a fair prospect of proving
  beneficial to the colonies. In the measure now suggested, this might
  form a constituent part of the arrangement: a moderate tax might be
  raised, both in this country and the settlements, for the combined
  purpose of aiding the emancipation, and supplying the compensation.

  As the system would be progressive in its operation, a very large sum
  would not be immediately required: perhaps an adequate fund might be
  derived from the following sources:

  1. An appropriation of the “King’s Tax,” now levied in some of the
  colonies, and an extension of it, to all the British settlements in
  the West Indies.

  2. A Sunday toll, to be collected at every toll-gate throughout the
  United Kingdom.

  3. Voluntary contributions, and collections after charity sermons, to
  be preached half-yearly on the subject of the emancipation, in every
  church, chapel, and licensed place of worship in Great Britain and
  Ireland.

  If these means should appear to be insufficient, it may be presumed
  that, at this happy period of diminishing the national burthens, few
  Englishmen could refuse themselves the gratification of promoting such
  a benevolent cause, by contributing ten or fifteen shillings per cent.
  according to the rate of the tax on property.

------------------------------------------------------------------------




                          TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES


 ● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
 ● Used numbers for footnotes, placing them all at the end of the last
     chapter.
 ● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
 ● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77323 ***