Barbadoes, Feb.
We still remain without any accurate intelligence respecting the great
body of our convoy; and, having no tidings of the commander in chief, we
continue in equal uncertainty when we may proceed to our original
destination, at St. Domingo. All here is suspense and anxiety. The
solicitude of the mercantile world is not less than that of the
military. No packet is arrived; the affairs of commerce are interrupted;
and we have no news of Europe or the war. Straggling vessels of our
disastrous fleet continue to join us; and, most unhappily, from the
transports coming out, in this dispersed and unprotected manner, we have
the painful intelligence of frequent captures being made by the enemy’s
cruisers from Guadaloupe.
A ship which came in this day reports that she parted from the Admiral
and a hundred sail of the convoy, on the seventh of January, in latitude
45, longitude 17. This is received, by some, as favorable intelligence,
it seeming to strengthen the hope that the fleet has not been under the
necessity of again putting back to Cork, or Spithead. But it is now so
long since the seventh of January, and we have known in the interval
such violent,—such repeated and long-continued gales, that, to many of
us, this news is equally unsatisfactory as all we had heard before. So
little does it meet our hopes, that we have still many apprehensions
lest the majority of the convoy may have been obliged to return to
Ireland or to England.
Unhappily the finest season is passing away; and before the whole army
can arrive, and be brought into action, the rainy period will be fast
approaching; but, as many of the men already here are in a sickly state,
we hope the delay may prove beneficial to them, by affording them an
opportunity of recovering from the ills of the voyage, and of their long
confinement on board, before they enter upon the fatigues of the
campaign. They are daily taken on shore to relieve them from the close
atmosphere of the transports; and, from being regularly exercised, they
will have the advantage of becoming, in some degree, seasoned previous
to being ordered upon actual service.
We learn from our captain that a great desertion is taking place among
the sailors of his vessel. Six have already absconded, and the number of
our crew is reduced to fourteen. This intelligence makes us apprehensive
lest, by the time we sail for St. Domingo, we may not have enough hands
to work the ship. But we are consoled in the recollection that the
friendly _trades_ will be entirely in our favor; and that we cannot
require so strong a ship’s company as amidst the adverse and terrific
gales which so long beset us on our passage hither.
A sad alarm has spread throughout the harbour, and we have all been in
fearful concern, respecting the fate of twelve men who went out in a
flat-bottomed boat to consign to the deep the body of a deceased
shipmate. Desirous not to throw over the corpse within the harbour,
where it would be instantly devoured by the numerous sharks which infest
the bay, and which we see almost daily swimming round the vessels in
search of prey, they rowed so far out to sea as to be unable to pull
back again; and the tide being against them, their heavy boat,
notwithstanding all their efforts to row her into the harbour, was
carried out into the wide Atlantic, with all hands on board. The captain
finding it long before his men returned, grew very apprehensive
regarding their safety. A general concern spread through the bay: it
extended likewise to the shore, and multitudes soon covered the beach,
while the shrouds, and yards of the ships, were thronged with anxious
crowds looking out for the funeral party. No boat appeared, and the
fears respecting their perilous situation becoming universal, two
schooners were despatched in search of them. Happily the weather was
moderate, or the whole would have been certainly lost, for the boat was
found adrift at open sea! Fortunately all the men were in her, and were
brought back in safety to the harbour, expressing themselves very
thankful for their unexpected deliverance from the all-devouring ocean.
A strong contrast to the dangerous situation of these poor men presented
itself in the repose of some other seamen, whom we perceived sitting at
rest in their boats, and sailing about the harbour by means of their
oars; a custom which we find to be common here; for we often see parties
of negroes, boatmen, or sailors, scud indolently about the bay,
employing their oars by way of sails. They fix the handles of them at
the bottom of the boat, and setting them up, two on each side, with the
flat surface to the wind, collect a sufficiency of the breeze to carry
them along without the trouble of rowing.
The captains of the Guineamen frequently relieve their ships’ company
from the duty of the boat, by training some of their black cargo to the
use of the oar: indeed so adroit do many of the negroes become, during
the passage, and the time they are detained on board, that their
assistance is of much service in working the vessel. We see occasionally
the master of a slave-ship rowed ashore by four of his naked Africans,
who appear as dexterous, in the management of the boat, as if they had
been for years accustomed to it.
Sometimes we observe the captains parading the streets, accompanied by
parties of their prime slaves—apparently with the intention of
exhibiting them to the eye of the public, in a sound and good condition.
This contributes, at the same time, to the health and amusement of these
poor beings, who seem delighted at placing their feet on shore, and, in
due obedience to their captain, dance and frolic as they go along,
either in real, or in well dissembled contentment.
I made a visit to Bridge-town this morning with the intention of leaving
some books to be bound, which I brought out, in sheets, from the
printer; but you will be surprised to learn that no such person as a
book-binder can be found in Barbadoes. We called on Mr. Hinde, and were
informed that, by the assistance of his friends Messrs. Jordan and
Maxwell, he had provided horses for our intended “_marooning_ party” to
Hackleton’s Cliff, and the northern coast of the island; when, upon our
apologizing to him, and his friends, and observing that we had sent our
servants to hire horses for the journey, he replied that no apologies
could be heard, for it would be “quite inconsistent with Barbadoes to
suffer strangers to have the trouble of procuring horses, or of seeking,
themselves, the accommodations for a country excursion.”