Berbische, June 3, 1796.
Fort St. Andrew is situated on the eastern bank of the river Berbische,
opposite to the island which graces its entrance. Nothing bearing the
semblance of the abode of man is within sight of it: nor is there any
way of escaping from it, either on foot, in a carriage, or on horseback;
the river being the only private path, and the only public road. At the
back of the fort is an extensive savanna, giving habitation to
loud-roaring frogs, also to enormous snakes, alligators, and other
reptiles. This naked waste stretches to a great distance, and is
bordered by dark forests, which reach near to the fort, and preclude
every view except of the water and the flat uncultivated savanna. In
these woods wild Indians range in all the freedom of nature. Sometimes
also tigers are seen prowling from their deep shades; and our ears are
daily and almost hourly saluted with the loud chattering of monkies, the
louder screaming of parrots, and the confused noise of numerous other
inhabitants.
The fort is calculated for the accommodation of between two and three
hundred men. The territory attached to it scarcely reaches beyond the
buildings, and the whole garrison is confined to a circle of less than
half a mile; the sole promenade, without the gates, being from the
barrack to the hospital, and back from the hospital to the barrack, a
distance of little more than a hundred yards. A short path has, indeed,
been opened into the savanna, which forms a very limited walk, in the
dry season, only. A few of the government negroes, who are employed at
the fort, have constructed small huts at the back of the hospital, which
call to my remembrance the cottagers’ cabins in the Highlands of
Scotland. At these habitations, we sometimes witness the joyous dance,
and have our ears regaled with the sound of the rude African drum, the
rattle, and the banjar.
Beyond the immediate precincts of the fort we do not find any human
abode, without making a journey of, at least, a mile and a half by
water. At that distance is now forming the town of Amsterdam, the new
capital of the colony. Between the fort and the town the river Kannye
opens into the great Berbische river; and between the Kannye and the
fort, the border of the parent river is still covered with the wild
woods: but these are doomed to the axe, and soon a road will be opened
upon the bank of the river Berbische to the river Kannye, and from the
opposite shore of that river to the town. This will be a great, and
desirable improvement. It will at once relieve the gloominess of the
situation, and scenery of the fort, form a convenient promenade, for
horse and foot, and remove the dull solitude of the garrison, by
establishing a more easy intercourse with the capital.
The town is yet in embryo. According to a plan formed for its
construction it is to be built upon the angle, or peninsula, between the
rivers Berbische and Kannye, extending along the bank of the former. The
land on which it is to be erected is in part cleared of its wood, and
divided into lots ready for building; but, at present, only here and
there a scattered house is to be seen. Beyond the prepared land, and not
half a mile from the government-house, the Bush still overhangs the
river Kannye; but those destructive engines fire and the axe are now
directed against it.
The whole scenery at New Amsterdam, as well as at Fort St. Andrew,
betrays the infant state of the colony. The dreariness of the land, just
robbed of its thick woods; the nakedness that prevails around the
government-house; the want of roads and paths; the swampy savanna; the
heavy forests; in short all that meets the eye conveys the idea of a
country just emerging from its original rudeness, into cultivation.
Since my arrival in this colony my hours have been busily occupied in
attending the sick, and establishing regulations and arrangements for
their accommodation. We have a garrison-hospital, built by the Dutch,
which is tolerably commodious, and, with a few alterations, may serve
for the present garrison. The Hollanders, without any regard to climate,
had preserved their European custom of placing the sick, two or three
together, in a species of box, with high enclosed sides, instead of
keeping them apart, and giving them the advantages of air and
cleanliness, by putting them upon open bedsteads.
I have directed that all these confined and offensive bed-boxes should
be removed, and have given orders to have some bedsteads made upon a new
construction, which I trust will prove both convenient and comfortable.
They will consist merely of four short posts, those at the top a little
longer than those at the bottom, and two side-rails, fitted together
with wooden pins, and so contrived as to be easily taken to pieces, and
packed in a portable form, in case we should at any time wish to remove
them. They will be made of mahogany, a wood which is so plentiful in
these colonies as to be used for every common purpose. A piece of strong
canvass, stretched from side to side, will form the bedding; a
head-board will slide into grooves in the two upper posts, and the
side-rails will move up and down in an opening cut through them, and be
fastened with pins, so as to be at any time raised or lowered at the
head, without disturbing the patient. When these shall be finished, I
hope to see a very complete hospital. The unfortunate sick will have the
comfort of being well lodged; each will have his mahogany bedstead to
himself; and men, with different maladies, will not be crowded together
in filthy boxes, nor shut up from the refreshing air.
The 93d regiment is intrusted with the defence of this colony. The mess
is one of the pleasantest I have yet met with. In gratitude I ought to
tell you that every individual emulates his commander in kind and
friendly attentions toward me. Indeed I cannot but be strongly sensible
of the many marks of politeness and civility with which I am daily
honored. Most of the officers are men of cultivated manners. Among them
are several of considerable fortune, and some of rank; men who are not
only well-disciplined soldiers, but well-bred gentlemen; being no less
versed in the polished rules of civil, than in the austere observances
of a military life. The general order and decorum which mark their
conduct afford the surest indication of correct discipline, and offer
the most convincing proof of the high advantage derived from serving
with a strict, but respected commander. Colonel Gammell, while he
suffers no remission of duty, is affable and pleasant towards those who
are under him. He treats them as companions, and seeks to engage their
affection and esteem. The soldiers consider him severe; but he is their
friend, and the majority of them are not insensible of it. We frequently
overhear the conversations and remarks of those about the hospital,
respecting him, and they always terminate very much to his credit; for
if one calls him rigorous or severe, another instantly contrasts what
they regard as his better qualities, saying—“Why, to be sure, he is a
little _close upon us_, and _keeps us to it_; but then you know it is
for our own benefit; and, besides, how good he is to us when we are
sick! You see he keeps these doctors to their duty, too. He comes to see
us himself every day, and makes them give us plenty of every thing
that’s good for us; and ’tisn’t all officers do that, you know! Some of
’em are more afraid of an hospital than a cannonball, and never care
whether we die or live!”
In this way their remarks usually go to the approval of the Colonel’s
conduct towards them; and, like good soldiers, they acknowledge their
esteem for a commander who, by imposing a strict routine of duty, gives
them cause to pride themselves upon a degree of pre-eminence in point of
health and discipline.
Among the many ills of climate, I am now suffering from a teasing
eruption which has thrown itself out upon my legs; a complaint which I
find has lately been prevalent among the troops in this colony, although
we had not observed it at Demarara. It is more severe than the prickly
heat, but somewhat of the same nature; and is, perhaps, only an
aggravated degree of that disease. It creates an uneasy sensation, not
amounting to actual pain, but sufficient to rob me of rest.
The second day after my arrival at Berbische I had the unhappy
opportunity of inspecting the body of a soldier who had fallen sacrifice
to yellow fever. The appearances were similar to those which we had
witnessed at Demarara, except that, in the present instance, there were
some striking marks of inflammation in the chest.