Berbische, May 31.
Expecting a passage of only a few hours to this colony, I left Demarara
the day after writing to you my last letter, in a small vessel which I
had not seen previous to embarking in her, and which offered no
accommodation but that of being bound direct to the place of my
destination. This, indeed, seemed to be all that was required, for I was
assured both on shore, and when I arrived on board, that, in less than
twenty-four hours, we should be at Berbische. But, in consequence of a
multitude of adverse circumstances, this short passage became sadly
tedious and extended; and in many respects, the most comfortless and
disagreeable that I have known. Instead of a few hours only, we were
four long days at sea. A minute detail of the progress of each
successive day would be as tiresome to you as the voyage has been to me:
yet, to say, merely, that we were four days going only a few leagues,
would convey to you no idea of the extreme discomfort, and the
multiplied annoyances to which I was exposed. Let me, therefore, give
you some of the particulars.
At eight o’clock on the morning of the 26th inst. I embarked on board
the above sloop to proceed from Fort William Frederic, at the mouth of
the Demarara river, to Fort St. Andrew, at the entrance of the river
Berbische. The vessel was employed by the Commissariat, to convey stores
and provisions to the garrison. She was named Voltigeur.
Quite unexpectedly I met with five other passengers, to all of whom I
was an entire stranger. I thought myself fortunate in having procured
three small chickens, and a salted pig’s face, with some fruit and
vegetables, as my share of stock for the voyage; and which, I was told
by my friends on shore, who had often made the passage, was an ample
supply, it being probable that I should not have to remain more than a
single day on board. The other gentlemen, having more confidence, than
myself, in the wind, the sea, and the Voltigeur, had embarked without
provisions or stores of any kind.
The anchor was weighing when I reached the vessel: as usual, my head
became sensible of the sea-motion before we had passed out of the river,
and my stomach sympathizing, a violent sickness seized me, which
compelled me to hasten to bed.
Till now I had taken no thought regarding either cabin or couch, the
shortness of the voyage, and the warm and steady temperature of the
climate had superseded all concern respecting a birth for the night. But
I now discovered that to sit up was impossible, the severity of the
retching being altogether insupportable, and, as the sloop offered no
protecting shade, to lie down upon the deck, exposed to the full power
of a burning sun, was to invite almost certain disease.
Under these circumstances I was driven to seek shelter in the cabin,
such as it might chance to be: for this purpose, I was conducted to a
kind of trap-door in the quarter-deck, called a hatchway; and, the hatch
being lifted off, a dark hole below was pointed out to me as the cabin,
and the only place where I could recline my aching head, or hope relief
for my sickened stomach. Subdued by the depressing languor of nausea, I
was too ill to hesitate: to lie down was my only care! and, unassisted
by stairs or ladder, I dropped myself, by means of my trembling arms,
through the opening, into this murky cell. My feet were quickly arrested
by the old chests, and other lumber scattered about this filthy place,
which was not of sufficient depth to admit of my standing upright,
without being half out at the hatchway; neither was there room to sit
down, nor a chair, or stool to rest upon; hence it only remained to me
to crawl upon my hands and knees, feeling my way, over the loose chests
and barrels to the farthest extent of the cabin, and there throw myself
into a wooden birth fixed at the side; which I found too short to admit
of the full extension of my person, and too near the planks of the deck
above, to allow of my remaining in any but an extended posture.
At a moment when the sickness had a little subsided, a sailor with a
light in his hand, dropped through the hatchway by which I had
descended. It would be impossible to describe the sensations I
experienced upon discovering the scene which now opened to me. The
execrable nest in which I was lying was not simply crowded and confined,
beyond all that the annoyances which I had felt had led me to suspect;
it was a _tout ensemble_ of nastiness, that defies all description.
Words can convey to you but a faint idea of the dirty and abominable
place, in which, for four long days, sick and without food, I had to
live.
This horrid cell, called a cabin, was only six feet long, seven wide,
and four in depth; and was further contracted to less than half its
dimensions, by the loose old chests, and worm-eaten coffers standing on
the dock below; the thick sheets of cobwebs suspended from the deck
above; and the crowd of filthy ornaments hanging on all sides. To sit or
to stand up appeared impossible; scarcely, indeed, was there room to lie
down, or to breathe. Not only was I shocked to see the noxious den I was
in, but was puzzled to conjecture how I could have steered my passage to
the birth, where I was lying. Both the entrance to the cabin, and the
path by which I had travelled to my couch were such as I could only have
passed during the insensibility of a severe fit of nausea. Descending
from the hole above, I must have alighted upon a heap of unfixed trunks
and coffers, at the risk of my legs being jammed between them; then I
had to crawl, upon my hands and knees, over the old unsteady lumber,
breaking my way through filth-thickened cobwebs, at the hazard of being
entangled in the strong net-work of gigantic spiders, whose labours had
known no interruption since the building of the sloop; and who, by
constant toil, had manufactured sheets of cordage of almost sufficient
strength to work it. But when compared to the many other offensive
things which filled the place, these dirty hangings might be regarded as
the rich tapestry of the apartment.
At each side of this dark abode was a fixed sleeping birth, which was
narrow, short, and dirty. The centre was filled with barrels, tubs, old
sea chests, greasy coffers, and other lumber. At one end stood a tub of
stinking salt meat; at the other, one with rotten potatoes, and pots of
rancid butter. The cabin was the general receptacle—the store-house,
cellar, pantry, and larder of the vessel. Under the births, saluting the
noses of those lying in them, were filthy worm-eaten chests, filled with
long-worn apparel, and other high-essenced contents. One was set apart
for dirty knives and forks, unwashed plates, basins, and dishes; another
for the odorous remains of yesterday’s dinner. In one corner stood a bag
of musty biscuit, in another hung an old grease-thickened lantern.
Hand-spikes, marline-spikes, swabs, a shattered mouldy case with a
compass, a worm-eaten ditto with a quadrant, two or three broken fishing
lines, a battered speaking trumpet, and a variety of other implements,
hung, or strewed about, added to the furniture of the apartment.
But worst of all were the poisonous long-used blankets of the sleeping
births; and the myriads of insects and vermin crawling about, and making
a public highway of my body. Rats and mice, cockroaches, musquitoes,
fleas, and ants formed only a part of the catalogue.
You will believe that on discovering how I was placed, I lost no time in
attempting my escape from this wretched place. But, on rising, a violent
and enfeebling sickness again seized me, and, from the causes I have
mentioned, it was impossible to remain upon deck; I therefore made the
experiment of standing in the hatchway, with my head through the
opening, so as to catch the passing breeze; but the intense heat from
the perpendicular rays of the sun, and the death-like nausea and
incessant retching, produced by the erect posture, soon chased me from
this wholesome station, and left me only a choice of evils; either to
extend myself upon deck, exposed to burning heat, and the risk of being
rolled overboard into the sea; or, again, to throw myself into a deadly
hole, threatened with a poisonous suffocation, and the danger of being
devoured by vermin.
In this dilemma—viewing it as the lesser evil, I, at length, resolved to
return to the manifold ills of the cabin; but remained at the hatchway,
supporting a degree of sickness which almost inverted my stomach, while
one of the sailors removed the blankets, and other offensive things,
which were in the birth, and swept and scrubbed it out, in order to give
me the bare boards as a resting-place.
I now drew on a pair of thick fustian pantaloons, reaching down to my
feet; buckled them fast in my shoes; put on a pair of strong gloves;
covered my head and great part of my face, with my night-cap; and
changing my coat for a loose morning gown, rolled myself up so as to
leave scarcely more than my nose accessible; and, thus protected,
tumbled again into the birth I had quitted, bidding defiance to the
insects, vermin, and every annoyance around me. Luckily my senses were
not, at this moment, very acute, for I laboured under a severe catarrh,
which deprived me of the faculties of smelling, and tasting, and almost
robbed me of sight. Situated as I was, all this might be considered as
fortunate, for I was compelled to continue throughout the remainder of
the day, either violently retching, or loathingly viewing the hateful
and disgusting scene around me.
Before evening poor old Mr. Serjeant, one of my fellow-passengers, was
likewise seized with sickness, and compelled to seek relief by reclining
his head in the opposite birth of the cabin. In painful sympathy we
bewailed each other’s distress, looking with anxious hope to a less
offensive birth upon the deck, when the sun should take his leave for
the night.
But in this expectation we were grievously disappointed. The retreat of
the sun was succeeded by heavy torrents of rain; and instead of our
being able to return upon deck, all the other passengers were driven
below, crowding both the cabin and hatchway, so as to threaten us with
the pains of suffocation. Every old chest and trunk now cracked with the
weight of some one hastening down to escape from the wet; and, quickly,
no less than seven or eight persons were crowded into this contracted
hole of spiders and vermin, committing depredations upon the net-work
hangings, in which they had long rested undisturbed. The whole host was
thus put to flight. All the living things of the cabin seemed to be let
loose in alarm. Numerous flocks of old spiders, overgrown cockroaches,
rats, ants, and other travellers, ran distractedly about the births,
kicking up their heels in our faces, and scampering over every part of
our persons.
In a state truly deplorable did we pass a long and wearisome night. My
head throbbed with pain; the heat of the cabin was intolerable; and I
was almost expiring from want of air. How anxiously did I wait, and how
joyfully hail the returning dawn of day!
I now contemplated a speedy escape from all the perils and annoyances of
the execrable Voltigeur: but the term of our sufferings was not thus
soon to close. New vexations arose, and disappointment again presented
its thorns. An old sailor, who had been employed to take his watch at
the helm, during the night, had sacrificed to all-subduing Morpheus, and
steered the vessel a wrong course; by which accident we had now the
mortification to find ourselves more distant from Berbische, than we had
been in the evening.
One of the passengers, who proved to be the owner of the vessel,
observing my solicitude, offered me consolation, by remarking that we
were not far distant from an estate of his, upon the coast, and assuring
me that if the vessel should not be able to reach Berbische in the
evening, rather than we should suffer such another night, he would take
us all off in the boat to sleep at his house on shore. This was a
comfort indeed, and I supported the sickness and other ills of the day,
in the full confidence of being, one way or other, relieved from them at
night.
Our sloop proceeded in dull movement, scarcely regaining, during the
whole of the day, the distance she had lost in the night. Evening again
approached, and our captain saw no prospect of reaching Berbische.
Finding this, the passengers upon deck kindly sent a message down into
the cabin, informing me, that we were within sight of the estate, at
which we were to sleep.
But vexation and disappointment were again our lot; and no alleviating
remission of our sufferings was allowed. It was discovered that we were
too far from the shore to go off in the boat; moreover, that it was ebb
tide, which rendered it impossible that we could traverse the deep bank
of mud, which extended from the water’s edge to the land.
It was next debated whether we should avail ourselves of the return of
the tide, and of our nearer approach to the shore, at a later hour; but,
again, our hopes were defeated, by the unexpected decline of the breeze,
which, most provokingly, fixed us in a dead calm. Presently the evening
closed, and it growing suddenly dark, we were compelled to abandon the
project, and to submit to the torture of passing another night on board.
As my next resource I resolved to avoid the poisonous stench and filth
of the cabin, by pillowing my head upon the open deck until morning: but
I found that my measure of vexation was not yet filled, for I was
quickly chased from this well-aired couch, by the falling of heavy rain;
and compelled to return to my nest of spiders. As the evil was without a
remedy, I hastened below, and, keeping on my clothes and shoes, tumbled
in again upon the bare boards.
The rain continued to fall, and from all the passengers crowding into
the cabin, as before, we were close-stowed in confined and offensive
heat, and passed another sadly wretched night; which to me was more
distressing than the former, on account of my cold being somewhat
relieved, and my olfactory powers in a slight degree restored. How
anxiously did I wish to place an additional feather in the wing of
time—how pray, ere the night had well commenced, that morning would
again appear!
To prevent the accident of the preceding night, we had let go the
anchor; and, without the risk of steering away from our course, remained
near the shore until the sun protruded from the waters of the east to
guide our path. It was now discovered that we had been lying near to the
estate of our fellow-passenger, where it was intended we should have
slept; it also appeared that we were only a few hours run from
Berbische; and that, unless some new obstacle occurred, we could not
fail to complete our voyage in the course of the day.
But, unhappily, the proprietor of the sloop wished to be set on shore,
and we could not weigh anchor until the sailors, who went off with the
boat, should return. At seven o’clock Mr. —— took his departure from the
vessel, carrying with him the other passengers, and leaving me to make
the remainder of the voyage alone.
It was observed, before, that these gentlemen brought no provisions on
board; and as my scanty stock had only served the mess for a single
dinner, we had already been reduced to the negro diet of plantains and
water, for nearly two days. This had been, hitherto, no inconvenience to
me, for my sickened stomach refused every kind of nourishment; but my
greatest distress arose from the other passengers having devoured every
morsel of my fruit, whilst I was lying sick and ill below, not leaving
me a shaddock, or an orange, to moisten my lips, or cool my tongue.
On their leaving the sloop, I earnestly intreated them not to detain the
boat a moment after they landed, lest we should be prevented from
reaching Berbische by night. They assured me that it should not be
delayed an instant beyond the time necessary for sending us “some fruit,
and some provisions for the captain’s dinner.” But, instead of the boat
coming back, directly, we were kept waiting the whole of the day, under
an anxiety which it were more easy to conceive, than express.
The third night came on, and no boat appeared. Our situation was now
tenfold more distressing than before. Without the men who went off with
the boat, we had not hands enough to work the vessel. No remedy,
therefore, remained, but to wait for them, however protracted their
return.
The poor captain, grown even more impatient than myself, became quite
outrageous, and from no satisfactory cause explaining to his mind the
detention of the boat, he sought not to restrain his rage, but kicked
and stamped upon the deck, pouring forth dreadful sea oaths, in the full
coarseness of broad Barbadian dialect, and with all the emphasis of
unbounded execration. His curses were really tremendous. They were
unlike all that had before met my ear; and were rendered doubly odious
by the drawling accent in which they were pronounced.
Notwithstanding my determination to meet the rough and the smooth of
life as they shall chance to fall in my path, this I confess was a day
of trial to my philosophy. Being without food and drink, without
society, or any other _agrément_, I was not able to beguile the slothful
hours, either by conversation or the pleasures of the table; and was
even disappointed in the hope of diverting my mind, from the fatigue of
unremitted suspense, by reading. Intending to make the trial, I begged
of the stamping, raving captain to show me his library. Ay, exclaimed
he, with a broad oath, that I can soon do! And, in truth, so he might;
for it consisted only of a torn, mouldy copy of the sailor’s
_Vade-mecum_, and the second volume of _The Tatler_, worm-eaten, and
held together by a needleful of worsted! As I was not in humour with the
sea, or any thing appertaining thereto, I threw aside the musty old
guide, and sat down to tattle with Mr. Bickerstaff, hoping in his
society to forget the cares of the moment; but still the boat—the _boat_
annoyed me at every page, and I found it impossible to abstract my
thoughts from the painful apprehension of passing another night on board
the abominable Voltigeur.
I remained, during the greater part of the day, upon deck; but as is
common, at this season of the year, heavy rain again fell at night, and
I was driven below to pass the hours of darkness amidst the filth and
perils of my former retreat.
The poor enraged captain, bidding defiance to the showers, remained
throughout the greater part of the night swearing and stamping upon
deck; and, in his watchful look-out for the boat, kept himself awake by
pouring bitter curses upon the heads of those who detained it.
After a sad and wearisome waiting the day again broke in at the opening
of the cabin. Much rain had fallen during the night, but the sun smiled
propitious through his morning robes, and seemed to offer cheerful
greetings. With eager anxiety I sought tidings of our boat, but could
obtain no intelligence regarding her. Neither was she arrived, nor in
sight. The complete round of twenty-four hours had passed, since she
left us, and we were wholly lost in conjecture what could possibly
detain her.
I now began to feel alarmed for my fellow-passengers, and became more
anxious concerning their safety, than regarding the return of the boat.
Something surely must have happened! The tide and the mud appeared no
longer sufficient to explain the delay. Still had we no means of
obtaining, nor even of seeking information, and it only remained to us
to continue the expectations of the preceding day, rendered doubly
solicitous from our apprehensions respecting the fate of the gentlemen
who had left us.
I made my escape very early from the cabin, and having exhausted all
inquiries and conjectures, without discovering any possible remedy, it
next became a question how to kill the heavy time. Already, had I
travelled as far as _Finis_ with Isaac Bickerstaff; and had nothing
left, in the shape of a book, but the dirty worn-out Vade-mecum:
therefore, great as was my aversion to the sea, a seeming necessity
drove me to separate the dirty pages of the old guide. A Dutch
dictionary might have been as entertaining. I, nevertheless, laboured
through latitudes and longitudes, and meridians, and altitudes, quite to
the end; and still ... no boat appeared.
I, next, resumed my tattling with Mr. Bickerstaff, pursuing our
conversation of yesterday, until about noon, when, to the great joy of
all on board, our long-lost boat hove in sight. Both Tatler and guide
were instantly forgotten, and, leaping up, I asked, impulsively, if we
had yet time to reach Berbische by night. The captain assured me that we
had; and you will believe that we kept our eyes, steadfastly, on the
boat, wishing her tenfold speed. At length, after an absence of
thirty-two most tedious hours, she came safely alongside; when we
learned that no accident had occurred; but that owing to the immense
beds of drifted mud on the coast, and to the tide making against them,
when they first _neared_ the shore, all the party had been kept at sea
in the open boat, exposed to the full ardor of a vertical sun, and
without a morsel to eat, or a drop to drink, during the whole of the
preceding day, from seven o’clock in the morning until ten at night:
since which the boat had been kept on shore to give rest and refreshment
to the poor sailors, who were extremely exhausted by heat and fatigue.
Thus did it appear that there were situations even more distressing than
being confined on board the odious Voltigeur; for those who had gone off
in the boat had been greater sufferers than myself. But I was surprised
to find that men, who had so recently known the ills of privation, did
not experience some feelings of sympathy towards others. Although they
knew that we were lying waiting in sad suspense, and without food or
drink, except some stale plantains and bad water, notwithstanding the
boat remained on shore full twelve hours after they landed, they had not
the consideration—the compassion, I might say, to send off either a bit,
or a drop to the master of the vessel, whom they had kept waiting; or to
the person whose provisions they had eaten.
We could not but feel hurt at this neglect; but we recollected that they
landed at night and in a state of fatigue and discomfort but little
calculated to extend their concern beyond their own persons; and we
hoped to feel it the less on account of speedily reaching the haven
whither we were bound: but, as if the torments of this vexatious voyage
were never to end, it was discovered when the boat reached us, that the
tide did not serve for us to get under weigh; consequently, we were
obliged to spend two hours of more tedious waiting than all that had
passed, before we could open our sails to the wind. At length, the boat
being hauled up astern, and the tide serving, we again stood out to sea;
the captain assuring me that we had still sufficient time to reach
Berbische by sunset. Knowing her talent for sailing, I had strong doubts
of this; but did not deem it wise to discourage the commander by
condemning his vessel.
The wind was not in our favor, and on my first venturing to ask how we
proceeded, I learned that we were about half a league _further from
port_ than when we were lying at anchor. Still I was enough a sailor to
have this explained to my satisfaction, by the observation that it was
necessary to _stand well out_, in order to _fetch the river upon the
next tack_. But very soon after, on attempting to _bring the vessel
about_, new perplexities arose. The Voltigeur disobeyed the helm, and
would not _veer to the wind_. In the sailor’s language, she would
neither _tack nor wear_, but remained fixed like a log upon the water. I
stood equally fixed, observing all that passed, without hazarding a
syllable of remark; for, however bad a vessel may be, and however much
her captain may abuse her, himself, still every commander is so
tenacious regarding the ship under his direction, that it were treason
for any other person to speak of her as a slow sailer.
The poor captain now stamped and swore worse than ever; and I had a full
opportunity of hearing the whole catalogue of vulgar sea oaths,
delivered in the broadest creole dialect. He reviled the vessel’s eyes,
her heart, and her sides; uttered dreadful curses upon her head, her
soul, and her liver; and after loading her with all the horrid
imprecations that vulgar rage could invent, he completed the climax, by
exclaiming to the sailors “_Da-amm her, cut her old throat, da-amm
her!_”
After much exertion, and a varied repetition of oaths, and enraged
stampings upon the deck, the vessel was brought about, and we stood in
for the shore, sailing for a short time in steady approach to the river;
but within less than half an hour, the bright prospect, which had so
recently opened to us, was again obscured, by the Voltigeur striking
upon the mud, and being nearly fixed aground. Fortunately she _went
about_ on this tack, with greater facility than the other, and hence, by
putting her round, she was soon set afloat again: but it was now
necessary to stand away, and make a long reach, from the shore, in order
to get into deep water. This would necessarily delay our arrival; still
the captain insisted that we should reach Berbische at night. But upon
my next inquiry respecting our progress I found that this was not very
probable, for we were then _six miles further off_ than when the boat
came to us in the morning.
Soon afterwards all hands were summoned and “_about_, _about_,”
re-echoed throughout the sloop. But the obstinate Voltigeur again
resisted. She had a sad antipathy to the Berbische river, and on their
attempting to tack for the shore, she refused to turn her head that way.
The poor captain, who had cautiously stationed every man at his post,
and prepared, with all due care, for putting her about, grew almost
frantic. He stamped and raved, and swore with all the bitterness of
unbridled wrath: and, having gone through his whole volume of oaths, he
threw himself down, exhausted by his exertions and his fury, exclaiming,
“_Dammee if we shall get in to-night, for she’ll neither wag one way nor
t’other._” For this I was not unprepared, my expectations having been
long of accord with the information; and although the epithets of old,
rotten and leaky, used by the enraged captain, were, from all
appearance, very correctly true, I was grown too resigned, or too
callous to all the ills of my situation, to experience any feelings of
alarm respecting our safety.
After some delay the vessel did _come about_, and we again _stood on_,
boldly, for the land, making all possible sail, the master and his crew
not despairing of being able to reach Berbische by night. But, as if the
very fates had combined with the elements, to throw every obstacle in
the way of our passage, the breeze suddenly dropped, and we were beset
in a calm! Against this impediment neither the rage of the commander,
nor the exertions of the sailors could aught avail. The captain, who had
already opened his whole store of imprecations, was about to repeat them
with manful energy, but, recollecting himself, he bestowed one round
curse upon the wind and the passage, and as a closing exclamation cried
out—“_Da-amm the old tub, it is not her fault neither—there is not a
thimbleful of wind! Dammee if we shall get in this week!_”
Thus ended the sailing of the day, and we again let go our anchor for
the night. The poor harassed man now became more tranquil, and I took
courage to address him in conversation, when I learned, that after all
the fatigue and exertions of the day, we were further from Berbische
than we had been the preceding night; but that we had the advantage of
lying in deeper water, and, consequently, were better situated for
availing ourselves of the morning breeze.
I resumed my hard birth, protected as before, and in nausea, and
discomfort, rolled out the tedious hours of night.
The fifth morning of this wretched voyage was serene and clear, and I
left my sleepless couch at an early hour to breathe a purer air upon
deck; when, upon looking out, I perceived an island not far distant,
lying directly in our course. From the sailors I learned that it was
within the mouth of the river Berbische. This was happy intelligence,
and seemed to promise a speedy termination of our eventful voyage. When
the captain came upon deck, he greeted me with a broad oath, assuring me
that I should breakfast at Fort St. Andrew. I wished it might be so:
indeed all seemed now within our reach, and it appeared to be scarcely
possible that any new impediment could interrupt the completion of our
passage; but the experience we had had was sufficient to create doubts
in the mind of the most sanguine, and to temper his warmest expectations
to the sobriety of tardy and interrupted accomplishment; or, even, to
convince him that the uncertainties of a sea voyage could never end
until the foot was again upon _terra firma_.
At seven o’clock we weighed anchor, and immediately made all possible
sail, with the island displaying its thick woods, directly ahead of the
sloop, and forming a very pleasing object. As we came nearer to it, I
observed that it was situated about the middle of the river, and nearly
opposite to the landing-place at the fort. All seemed now propitious,
and we sailed smoothly on: but we had yet to experience a further trial
of patience! An hour had not passed, from the time of our getting under
weigh, before our progress was completely arrested by the Voltigeur
again striking upon the mud. “_By Heav’ns_,” exclaimed the captain,
“_she’s aground! This is worse than ever!_” All his vexations were now
cruelly aggravated by the mortification of being seen from the fort; and
he ran, stamped, stormed, and cursed in loud bursts of rage, which
outdid all his former doings. I felt the less uneasy at this additional
delay, from the opportunity it afforded me of contemplating the scene
before us: more particularly as the vessel could not suffer any injury
from her soft bed, and as we were near enough to reach the shore in the
boat, should any accident render it necessary for us to quit the sloop.
The best exertions of the crew were of no avail: fixed in the mud we
were compelled to let go the anchor, and wait until the flood tide
should again set us afloat.
The view before us was that of a wild country, only just opening into
cultivation. It comprised an extent of wood and water, with small
patches of land breaking into incipient tillage; but it had nothing of
the bold and romantic scenery of mountainous regions: the picture was
soft and harmonious. We were lying a few miles out at sea, looking
directly up the river; the quiet waters of which were gliding, in
tranquil stream, to the ocean. No part of the territory of the island
was visible, but, from being flat and low, it appeared as a mere cluster
of trees, growing out of the water, and causing a pleasant break in the
wide opening of the river. On the right was the western shore covered
with a continued mass of heavy forest, whose gigantic timbers, gradually
elevating their crowded summits from the water’s edge, formed a broad
expanse of interminable verdure, which fancy might have easily converted
into a green field, of immense extent, gently sloping to the river. On
the left was the eastern shore, shaded also with deep forests; but on
this side, the river’s bank was partially thinned of its woods, and
presented to our view, the fort and batteries, with a wide savanna at
the back of them. I gazed in earnest contemplation upon the solemn
wildness of the scene, and lamented not the accident which had so
peculiarly placed it before me. For a moment my mind was abstracted from
every thing more immediately around me, and I was totally absorbed
amidst these vast and unbounded forests. But my attention was quickly
diverted from these endless woods, by a loud cry of “_All hands to heave
the anchor_.” The tide had supplied us with water to float the sloop,
and we lost no time in attempting to escape from our muddy birth.
The vessel now stood directly into the mouth of the river, and, being
careful to keep the middle of the stream, we again felt secure of our
passage. But the fates had not yet filled their page. Before we had time
to reach the fort the wind dropped, and, from the vessel disobeying the
helm, we again drifted aground. This was worse than all: and the poor
captain now swore that “_the very devil himself must have set his spell
upon the vessel_!”
We were again compelled to let go the anchor, in order to wait the
return of the breeze. Being near to the island and the fort, I might
have gone on shore in the boat, but could not venture to ask our angry
commander to spare any of his men for that purpose. I had often seen him
expend his wrath without presuming to interrupt him. It was now
increased to frenzy, and he loudly vociferated “_There is some daamm
devil in the sloop that’s bringing us this passage, and we must heave
overboard, or we shan’t get in this month._” It was perilous to speak to
him, for if any thing I might say should chance to cross him, it was not
certain but, in the overflowings of his rage, he might fix upon me as
the “_Jonas_,” and deem it expedient to take his measures accordingly.
At all events it was necessary to keep out of the way, in order not to
interrupt him or his men in working the vessel; I therefore remained
below, during the high tide of his ravings and stampings, showing my
head only at the hatchway, like an unhappy object peeping out between
the bars of a prison.
We remained for a considerable time, deep fixed in mud. Luckily the
meridian sun brought a fine breeze, and we were once more set afloat,
when we were quickly placed alongside the battery at St. Andrew’s fort,
and I most gladly jumped on shore, rejoicing in the termination of a
voyage which had been harassing and vexatious, beyond all that the most
ill-tokened calculation could have anticipated. Never was any poor
suffering captive more happy in being released from long confinement,
than I was to escape from my noisome abode in the Voltigeur. During four
sad long days, and four still more wearisome nights had I been immured
in the filthiest of all filthy dungeons, ill, and in a manner without
food or support, having only the repetition of bad plantains and water.
I was met at the landing-place by Mr. Mackie, the acting surgeon of the
garrison, who kindly conducted me to an apartment, where I could cast
off my sea garments, and submit myself to the purifying process of a
complete ablution. No person could have wished for my birth on board the
wretched Voltigeur: but every one might have envied me the luxury of my
bath on leaving it! I cannot tell you how delightful—how grateful it
was! It so refreshed, and animated me, that I felt, and certainly
was ... _a very different being_!