THE YELLOW FEVER IN JAMAICA--MY EXPERIENCE OF DEATH-BED
SCENES--I LEAVE AGAIN FOR NAVY BAY, AND OPEN A STORE
THERE--I AM ATTACKED WITH THE GOLD FEVER, AND START FOR
ESCRIBANOS--LIFE IN THE INTERIOR OF THE REPUBLIC OF
NEW GRANADA--A REVOLUTIONARY CONSPIRACY ON A SMALL
SCALE--THE DINNER DELICACIES OF ESCRIBANOS--JOURNEY UP
THE PALMILLA RIVER--A FEW WORDS ON THE PRESENT ASPECT
OF AFFAIRS ON THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA.
I stayed in Jamaica eight months out of the year 1853, still
remembered in the island for its suffering and gloom. I returned just
in time to find my services, with many others, needful; for the yellow
fever never made a more determined effort to exterminate the English
in Jamaica than it did in that dreadful year. So violent was the
epidemic, that some of my people fell victims to its fury, a thing
rarely heard of before. My house was full of sufferers--officers,
their wives and children. Very often they were borne in from the ships
in the harbour--sometimes in a dying state, sometimes--after long and
distressing struggles with the grim foe--to recover. Habituated as I
had become with death in its most harrowing forms, I found these
scenes more difficult to bear than any I had previously borne a part
in; and for this reason perhaps, that I had not only to cheer the
death-bed of the sufferer, but, far more trying task, to soothe the
passionate grief of wife or husband left behind. It was a terrible
thing to see young people in the youth and bloom of life suddenly
stricken down, not in battle with an enemy that threatened their
country, but in vain contest with a climate that refused to adopt
them. Indeed, the mother country pays a dear price for the possession
of her colonies.
I think all who are familiar with the West Indies will acknowledge
that Nature has been favourable to strangers in a few respects, and
that one of these has been in instilling into the hearts of the
Creoles an affection for English people and an anxiety for their
welfare, which shows itself warmest when they are sick and suffering.
I can safely appeal on this point to any one who is acquainted with
life in Jamaica. Another benefit has been conferred upon them by
inclining the Creoles to practise the healing art, and inducing them
to seek out the simple remedies which are available for the terrible
diseases by which foreigners are attacked, and which are found growing
under the same circumstances which produce the ills they minister to.
So true is it that beside the nettle ever grows the cure for its
sting.
I do not willingly care to dwell upon scenes of suffering and death,
but it is with such scenes that my life's experience has made me most
familiar, and it is impossible to avoid their description now and
then; and here I would fain record, in humble spirit, my conclusions,
drawn from the bearing of those whom I have now and then accompanied a
little distance on their way into the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
on the awful and important question of religious feeling. Death is
always terrible--no one need be ashamed to fear it. How we bear it
depends much upon our constitutions. I have seen some brave men, who
have smiled at the cruellest amputation, die trembling like children;
while others, whose lives have been spent in avoidance of the least
danger or trouble, have drawn their last painful breath like heroes,
striking at their foe to the last, robbing him of his victory, and
making their defeat a triumph. But I cannot trace _all_ the peace and
resignation which I have witnessed on many death-beds to temperament
alone, although I believe it has much more to do with them than many
teachers will allow. I have stood by receiving the last blessings of
Christians; and closing the eyes of those who had nothing to trust to
but the mercy of a God who will be far more merciful to us than we are
to one another; and I say decidedly that the Christian's death is the
glorious one, as is his life. You can never find a good man who is not
a worker; he is no laggard in the race of life. Three, two, or one
score years of life have been to him a season of labour in his
appointed sphere; and as the work of the hands earns for us sweet rest
by night, so does the heart's labour of a lifetime make the repose of
heaven acceptable. This is my experience; and I remember one death, of
a man whom I grew to love in a few short weeks, the thought of which
stirs my heart now, and has sustained me in seasons of great danger;
for before that time, if I had never feared death, I had not learnt to
meet him with a brave, smiling face, and this he taught me.
I must not tell you his name, for his friends live yet, and have been
kind to me in many ways. One of them we shall meet on Crimean soil. He
was a young surgeon, and as busy, light-hearted, and joyous as a good
man should be; and when he fell ill they brought him to my house,
where I nursed him, and grew fond of him--almost as fond as the poor
lady his mother in England far away. For some time we thought him
safe, but at last the most terrible symptoms of the cruel disease
showed themselves, and he knew that he must die. His thoughts were
never for himself, but for those he had to leave behind; all his pity
was for them. It was trying to see his poor hands tremblingly penning
the last few words of leave-taking--trying to see how piteously the
poor worn heart longed to see once more the old familiar faces of the
loved ones in unconscious happiness at home; and yet I had to support
him while this sad task was effected, and to give him all the help I
could. I think he had some fondness for me, or, perhaps, his kind
heart feigned a feeling that he saw would give me joy; for I used to
call him "My son--my dear child," and to weep over him in a very weak
and silly manner perhaps.
He sent for an old friend, Captain S----; and when he came, I had to
listen to the dictation of his simple will--his dog to one friend, his
ring to another, his books to a third, his love and kind wishes to
all; and that over, my poor son prepared himself to die--a child in
all save a man's calm courage. He beckoned me to raise him in the bed,
and, as I passed my arms around him, he saw the tears I could not
repress, rolling down my brown cheeks, and thanked me with a few
words. "Let me lay my head upon your breast;" and so he rested, now
and then speaking lowly to himself, "It's only that I miss my mother;
but Heaven's will be done." He repeated this many times, until the
Heaven he obeyed sent him in its mercy forgetfulness, and his thoughts
no longer wandered to his earthly home. I heard glad words feebly
uttered as I bent over him--words about "Heaven--rest--rest"--a holy
Name many times repeated; and then with a smile and a stronger voice,
"Home! home!" And so in a little while my arms no longer held him.
I have a little gold brooch with his hair in it now. I wonder what
inducement could be strong enough to cause me to part with that
memorial, sent me by his mother some months later, with the following
letter:--
"My dear Madam,--Will you do me the favour to accept the
enclosed trifle, in remembrance of that dear son whose
last moments were soothed by your kindness, and as a
mark of the gratitude of, my dear Madam,
"Your ever sincere and obliged,
"M---- S----."
After this, I was sent for by the medical authorities to provide
nurses for the sick at Up-Park Camp, about a mile from Kingston; and
leaving some nurses and my sister at home, I went there and did my
best; but it was little we could do to mitigate the severity of the
epidemic.
About eight months after my return to Jamaica, it became necessary
that some one should go to the Isthmus of Panama to wind up the
affairs of my late hotel; and having another fit of restlessness, I
prepared to return there myself. I found Navy Bay but little altered.
It was evening when I arrived there; and my friend Mr. H----, who came
to meet me on the wharf, carefully piloted me through the wretched
streets, giving me especial warning not to stumble over what looked
like three long boxes, loosely covered with the _debris_ of a fallen
house. They had such a peculiar look about them that I stopped to ask
what they were, receiving an answer which revived all my former
memories of Darien life, "Oh, they're only three Irishmen killed in a
row a week ago, whom it's nobody's business to bury."
I went to Gorgona, wound up the affairs of the hotel, and, before
returning to Navy Bay, took the occasion of accompanying my brother to
the town of Panama. We did not go with the crowd, but rode alone on
mules, taking with us three native guides on foot; and although the
distance was not much over twenty miles, and we started at daybreak,
we did not reach Panama until nightfall. But far from being surprised
at this, my chief wonder was that we ever succeeded in getting over
the journey. Through sand and mud, over hill and plain--through thick
forests, deep gulleys, and over rapid streams, ran the track; the road
sometimes being made of logs of wood laid transversely, with faggots
stuffed between; while here and there we had to work our way through a
tangled network of brushwood, and over broken rocks that seemed to
have been piled together as stones for some giant's sling. We found
Panama an old-fashioned, irregular town, with queer stone houses,
almost all of which had been turned by the traders into stores.
On my return to Navy Bay--or Colon, as the New Granadans would have it
called--I again opened a store, and stayed there for three months or
so. I did not find that society had improved much in my absence;
indeed, it appeared to have grown more lawless. Endless quarrels,
often resulting in bloodshed, took place between the strangers and the
natives, and disturbed the peace of the town. Once the Spanish were
incensed to such an extent, that they planned a general rising against
the foreigners; and but for the opportune arrival of an English
war-steamer, the consequences might have been terrible. The Americans
were well armed and ready; but the native population far outnumbered
them.
Altogether, I was not sorry when an opportunity offered itself to do
something at one of the stations of the New Granada Gold-mining
Company, Escribanos, about seventy miles from Navy Bay. I made the
journey there in a little vessel, all communication by land from Navy
Bay being impossible, on account of the thick, dense forests, that
would have resisted the attempts of an army to cut its way through
them. As I was at this place for some months altogether, and as it was
the only portion of my life devoted to gold-seeking, I shall make no
apologies for endeavouring to describe the out-of-the-way village-life
of New Granada.
Escribanos is in the province of Veraguas, in the State of New
Granada--information uninteresting enough, I have little doubt, to all
but a very few of my readers. It lies near the mouth of a rivulet
bearing that name, which, leaving the river Belen, runs away to the
sea on its own account, about a mile from the mouth of that river. It
is a great neighbourhood for gold-mines; and about that time companies
and private individuals were trying hard to turn them to good account.
Near it is the Fort Bowen mine, and several others; some yielding
silver, others gold ore, in small quantities. Others lie in the
vicinity of the Palmilla--another river, which discharges itself into
the sea about ten miles from Escribanos; and there were more eastward
of it, near a similar river, the Coquelet. Legends were rife at that
time, and they may be revived at no distant date, of the treasures to
be found at Cucuyo, Zapetero, Pananome, and many other Indian
villages on their banks, which in times gone by had yielded up golden
treasures to the Old World. But at this time the yield of gold did not
repay the labour and capital necessary to extract it from the quartz;
and it can only prove successful if more economical methods can be
discovered than those now used for that purpose.
Carlos Alexander, the alcalde of Escribanos, had made a good thing out
of the gold mania. The mine had belonged to him; had been sold at a
fine price, and, passing through several hands, had at last come into
possession of the Company who were now working it; its former owner
settling down as ruler over the little community of two hundred souls
that had collected at Escribanos. He was a black man; was fond of
talking of his early life in slavery, and how he had escaped; and
possessed no ordinary intellect. He possessed, also, a house, which in
England a well-bred hound would not have accepted as a kennel; a white
wife, and a pretty daughter, with a whity-brown complexion and a
pleasant name--Juliana.
Of this mine Mr. Day--by whose invitation, when I saw him at Navy Bay,
I went there--was at that time superintendent. He was a distant
connection of my late husband, and treated me with great kindness.
Strangely enough, we met again in a far different part of the world,
and became more closely connected. But I am anticipating.
The major part of the population of Escribanos, including even the
women and children, worked at the mine. The labour was hard and
disagreeable. I often used to watch them at their work; and would
sometimes wander about by myself, thinking it possible that I might
tumble across some gold in my rambles. And I once did come upon some
heavy yellow material, that brought my heart into my mouth with that
strange thrilling delight which all who have hunted for the precious
metal understand so well. I think it was very wrong; but I kept the
secret of the place from the alcalde and every one else, and filled
some bottles with the precious dust, to carry down to Navy Bay. I did
not go for some time; but when I did, one of my first visits was to a
gold-buyer; and you can imagine my feelings when he coolly laughed,
and told me it was some material (I forget its name) very like gold,
but--valueless. The worst part of it was that, in my annoyance and
shame, I threw all I had away, and among it some which I had reason to
believe subsequently was genuine.
The landing at Escribanos was very difficult, and when the surf ran
high, impossible; and I was once witness to a harrowing scene there. A
little boat, manned by three sailors, grounded on a rock not far from
shore, at a terrible season, when to reach it from the land was, after
many attempts, found impossible. The hapless crew lingered on for two
days, suffering cruelly from hunger and thirst, their cries ringing in
our ears above the storm's pitiless fury. On the third day, two of
them took to the sea, and were drowned; the third was not strong
enough to leave the boat, and died in it.
I did not stay long at Escribanos, on my first visit, as the alcalde's
guest; but, having made arrangements for a longer sojourn, I went back
to Navy Bay, where I laid in a good stock of the stores I should have
most use for, and returned to Escribanos in safety. I remained there
some months, pleased with the novelty of the life, and busy with
schemes for seeking for--or, as the gold-diggers call it, prospecting
for--other mines.
The foreigners were just as troublesome in this little out-of-the-way
place as they were, and are, in every other part of Central America;
and quarrels were as frequent in our little community as at Cruces or
Navy Bay. Indeed, Alexander had hard work to maintain peace in his
small kingdom; and although ably seconded by Mr. Day, more than once
American disregard of his sway was almost too strong for him. Very
often the few foreigners would quarrel among themselves; and once when
they came to blows, and an Irishman was stabbed by an American named
Campfield, the alcalde roused himself to punish the culprit. The
native population were glad enough to have an American in their power;
and when I heard Alexander give his men instructions to shoot the
culprit if he resisted, I started off to his hut, and reached it in
time to prevent bloodshed. He was taken and kept in confinement; and
soft-hearted Juliana and I had enough to do to prevent his being made
a stern example of. But we got him off for a fine of five hundred
dollars.
Again the little community of Escribanos was very near getting up a
revolution against its constituted government--a very common amusement
in Central America. Twelve sailors, deserters from an American ship,
found their way there, and before long plotted to dethrone Alexander,
and take possession of the mine. Mr. Day gained information of their
plan. The whole population of Escribanos were roused and warned; and
arming a score of the boldest natives, he surrounded the house in
which they were, and captured the conspirators, who were too much
taken by surprise to offer resistance, and sent them down to Navy
Bay, there to be handed over to the Government whose service they had
left.
Of course, my medical skill did not rust for want of practice at
Escribanos. The place was not healthy, and strangers to the climate
suffered severely. A surgeon himself, sent there by the West Granada
Gold-mining Company, was glad to throw _his_ physic to the dogs, and
be cured in my way by mine; while I was fortunately able to nurse Mr.
Day through a sharp attack of illness.
In consequence of the difficulty of communication with Navy Bay, our
fare was of the simplest at Escribanos. It consisted mainly of salt
meat, rice, and roasted Indian corn. The native fare was not tempting,
and some of their delicacies were absolutely disgusting. With what
pleasure, for instance, could one foreign to their tastes and habits
dine off a roasted monkey, whose grilled head bore a strong
resemblance to a negro baby's? And yet the Indians used to bring them
to us for sale, strung on a stick. They were worse still stewed in
soup, when it was positively frightful to dip your ladle in
unsuspectingly, and bring up what closely resembled a brown baby's
limb. I got on better with the parrots, and could agree with the
"senorita, buono buono" with which the natives recommended them; and
yet their flesh, what little there was of it, was very coarse and
hard. Nor did I always refuse to concede praise to a squirrel, if well
cooked. But although the flesh of the iguana--another favourite
dish--was white and tender as any chicken, I never could stomach it.
These iguanas are immense green lizards, or rather moderate-sized
crocodiles, sometimes three feet in length, but weighing generally
about seven or eight pounds. The Indians used to bring them down in
boats, alive, on their backs, with their legs tied behind them; so
that they had the most comical look of distress it is possible to
imagine. The Spanish Indians have a proverb referring to an iguana so
bound, the purport of which has slipped from my memory, but which
shows the habit to be an old one. Their eggs are highly prized, and
their captors have a cruel habit of extracting these delicacies from
them while alive, and roughly sewing up the wound, which I never could
muster sufficient courage to witness.
The rivers near Escribanos were well stocked with crocodiles, the sea
had its fair share of sharks, while on land you too often met with
snakes and other venomous reptiles. The sting of some of them was very
dangerous. One man, who was bitten when I was there, swelled to an
enormous size, and bled even at the roots of his hair. The remedy of
the natives appeared to be copious bleeding.
Before I left Escribanos I made a journey, in company with a gentleman
named Little, my maid, and the alcalde's daughter, into the interior
of the country, for a short distance, following the course of the
Palmilla river. This was for the purpose of prospecting a mine on that
river, said to be obtainable at an easy price. Its course was a very
winding one; and we often had to leave the canoe and walk through the
shallow waters, that every now and then interfered with our progress.
As we progressed, Little carefully sounded the channel of the river,
with the view of ascertaining to what extent it was navigable.
The tropical scenery was very grand; but I am afraid I only marked
what was most curious in it--at least, that is foremost in my memory
now. I know I wondered much what motive Nature could have had in
twisting the roots and branches of the trees into such strange
fantastic contortions. I watched with unfailing interest the birds and
animals we disturbed in our progress, from the huge peccary or wild
boar, that went tearing through the brushwood, to the tiniest
bright-hued bird that dashed like a flash of many-coloured fire before
our eyes. And very much surprised was I when the Indians stopped
before a large tree, and on their making an incision in the bark with
a matcheto (hatchet), there exuded a thick creamy liquid, which they
wished me to taste, saying that this was the famous milk-tree. I
needed some persuasion at first; but when I had tasted some upon a
biscuit, I was so charmed with its flavour that I should soon have
taken more than was good for me had not Mr. Little interfered with
some judicious advice. We reached the mine, and brought back specimens
of the quartz, some of which I have now.
Soon after this I left Escribanos, and stopping but a short time at
Navy Bay, came on direct to England. I had claims on a Mining Company
which are still unsatisfied; I had to look after my share in the
Palmilla Mine speculation; and, above all, I had long been troubled
with a secret desire to embark in a very novel speculation, about
which I have as yet said nothing to the reader. But before I finally
leave the republic of New Granada, I may be allowed to write a few
words on the present aspect of affairs on the Isthmus of Panama.
Recent news from America bring the intelligence that the Government of
the United States has at length succeeded in finding a reasonable
excuse for exercising a protectorate over, or in other words
annexing, the Isthmus of Panama. To any one at all acquainted with
American policy in Central America, this intelligence can give no
surprise; our only wonder being that some such excuse was not made
years ago. At this crisis, then, a few remarks from the humblest
observer of life in the republic of New Granada must possess some
interest for the curious, if not value.
I found something to admire in the people of New Granada, but not
much; and I found very much more to condemn most unequivocally.
Whatever was of any worth in their institutions, such as their
comparative freedom, religious toleration, etc., was owing mainly to
the negroes who had sought the protection of the republic. I found the
Spanish Indians treacherous, passionate, and indolent, with no higher
aim or object but simply to enjoy the present after their own torpid,
useless fashion. Like most fallen nations, they are very conservative
in their habits and principles; while the blacks are enterprising, and
in their opinions incline not unnaturally to democracy. But for their
old antipathy, there is no doubt that the negroes would lean towards
America; but they gladly encourage the prejudice of the New Granadans,
and foster it in every way. Hence the ceaseless quarrels which have
disturbed Chagres and Panama, until it has become necessary for an
American force to garrison those towns. For humanity and
civilization's sake, there can be little doubt as to the expediency of
this step; but I should not be at all surprised to hear that the
republic was preparing to make some show of resistance against its
powerful brother; for, as the reader will have perceived, the New
Granadans' experiences of American manners have not been favourable;
and they do not know, as we do, how little real sympathy the
Government of the United States has with the extreme class of its
citizens who have made themselves so conspicuous in the great
high-road to California.