Recovery from Fever--Projected Independence of Liberia--Remarks on Climate
and Health--Peril from Breakers--African Arts--Departure for the Cape de
Verds--Man Overboard.
June 18.--A weary blank! Since my last date, I have had the coast fever,
caught by sleeping on shore, at St. Anne de Chaves, and am now just
recovering my physical force. My sickness was accompanied with little
bodily pain, but with great prostration of strength. Able medical advice,
and kind and judicious treatment, have brought me up a little; and, with
the help of God, I may again call myself well, in a week or two more. But
there is great danger of relapses, caution!
We are now at Monrovia, having made the passage from the river Gaboon,
hitherward, in seven days and fourteen hours, from anchorage to
anchorage--an unprecedented run! The Macedonian has been here, and is
gone.
19.--Still better this morning. The sky looks brighter than before; the
woods seem greener, and cast a lovelier shade; the surf breaks more
gracefully along the beach; and the natives, paddling their canoes around
the ship, look more human--more like brethren. Returning health gives a
more beautiful aspect to all things. It is almost worth while to have been
brought so low by sickness, for the sake of the freshness of body and
spirit, the renewed youth, the tenderer susceptibility to all good
impressions, which make my present consciousness so delightful. It is like
being new-created, and placed in a new world. Life, to the convalescent,
looks as fair and promising as if he had never tried it, and been weary of
it.
20.--Still improving. The fine weather of yesterday and to-day invigorates
and cheers me. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and some friends are expected
on board, by special invitation. We pay much attention to the persons in
authority here; it being the policy of our government to befriend and
countenance the colonies. I hear that a serious effort is now in progress,
at this place, to declare Liberia independent of the Colonization Society,
and set up a republic. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and Mr. Teage are said
to be at the head of the movement. Both are men of talent. Mr. Teage
formerly edited the Liberia Herald, and preached in the Baptist Church,
where his services were most emphatically gratuitous; for he not only
ministered without a stipend, but supplied a place of worship--the sacred
edifice being his own private property. He is certainly one of the ablest,
if not the very ablest, writer and preacher in the colony. The project
above-mentioned seems to me an unwise one; but benefits, which do not now
appear, may possibly be obtained by sundering the relations between the
settlement and the parent society. Much is expected from England. That
nation, however, can never feel a maternal interest in the colony, nor
will do for it what the Society has all along done, and continues to do.
21.--Still stronger. I am now able to resume my place at the mess-table.
But care is necessary to avoid a relapse. It is one of the worst features
of this disease, that it appears to continue in the system for many months
after the patient's recovery, and to renew its attacks upon the slightest
exposure. Most persons find it necessary to leave the coast, in order to
the re-establishment of their health. I am not the only convalescent on
board the ship. Mr. Ewal, a young Danish supercargo, is here for a few
days, to try the benefit of a change of air, and enjoy the attendance of a
regular physician. He has been on shore above a month, sick of the fever,
under the charge of Dr. Prout, a colored practitioner. Our captain pitied
his condition, invited him on board, and, with his uniform kindness, took
him into the cabin, where, in only three days, he has already improved
wonderfully.
27.--A sunny day, after three or four dull and rainy ones. My health is
now so far restored, that I shall insert no more bulletins. I owe much to
the care of our surgeon, who is very able and attentive, and has seen much
yellow-fever practice, in the West Indies. The assistant-surgeon is also
an excellent and an untiring officer. My fever, like the other cases which
have happened on board, was of a bilious kind. All foreigners make
themselves liable to it, either in its milder or more aggravated forms, by
sleeping even a single night on shore; but, according to Dr. Hall, a
physician of great experience on the coast, health may be preserved for an
indefinite period, by the simple precaution of sleeping always on
ship-board, at a very moderate distance from land. This does not
altogether coincide with my own observations. It is true, that during
eight or ten months after the arrival of a ship upon the coast, the health
of her crew will probably continue good, if they neither sleep on shore
nor ascend the rivers. But, if exposed for a longer period to the
enervating influences of the unceasing heat, and the frequent penetrating
rains, it may reasonably be expected that any ship's company will be
broken down, even though not a single death may occur. In our own ship, we
have recently had many cases of fever, where the patients have neither
slept on shore, nor been exposed to the peculiar malaria of rivers.
Doubtless, however, the fever of the country, where all due precautions
have been used, will be much lighter on board, than on shore. But the
patients will be liable to frequent relapses, and a complete recovery will
be almost out of the question, without a change of climate. It is another
objection to the long continuance of ships on this station, that all
wounds or injuries, however slight, have a tendency to become obstinate
and dangerous sores, which incapacitate these afflicted from performing
any duty.
Besides the coast fever (which, Dr. Hall remarks, he has never known an
emigrant completely to escape), there is an intermittent fever, against
which no acclimation will protect the colonist, any more than against the
bilious fever of America. The Rev. Mr. James, a colored missionary, told
me, that, for seven years, he had been accustomed to suffer attacks of
fever, once in every four or five weeks.
The natives of this country are as healthy as any people under Heaven. A
benignant Providence has adapted the climate, soil, and productions, of
every part of the globe to the constitutions of those races of mankind
which it has placed there. Nor is Africa an exception. In spite of her
desolating wars, and the immense drain of her children through the slave
trade which for centuries has checked the increase of population, she is
still a populous country. The aboriginal natives, unless killed through
superstition or cruelty, survive to an almost patriarchal longevity. The
colored people of America, or any other part of the world, may be regarded
as borrowed from Africa, and inheriting a natural adaptation to her soil
and climate. Such emigrants, therefore, may be expected to suffer less
than the whites, in the process of acclimation, and may, in due time, find
their new residence more genial to their constitutions, than those which
they have quitted. At all events, their children will probably flourish
here, and attain a fulness of physical, and perhaps moral and intellectual
perfection, which the colored race has fallen short of, in other regions.
As the country becomes cleared and cultivated, the mortality of the
emigrants decreases. It is asserted to be one-third less, at this period,
than it was ten years ago. The statistics of Cape Palmas show the
population to be on the increase, independently of immigration. Dr. Hall
affirmed (but, I should imagine, with unusual latitude of expression)
that, in the sickliest season ever known at Cape Palmas, the rate of
mortality was lower than that of the free colored population in Baltimore,
in an ordinary year. In another generation, this may no doubt be said with
perfect accuracy.
28.--Last night, the Porpoise came in, and anchored inside of us. As we
lay unusually near the shore, and as the wind was rising, with a heavy
swell, the brig found herself, this morning, in a dangerous position. She
sent us a boat, to say that she was dragging her anchor, and to ask for a
hawser. This was immediately supplied; but, before we could give her the
end of it, she had drifted into the breakers. She hoisted her colors,
union down, and was momentarily expected to strike. At this instant, a
tremendous roller swamped one of our boats, and left the men swimming for
their lives. The other boats went to their assistance, and providentially
succeeded in rescuing them all. Meantime, the brig made sail, and, by the
help of our hawser, was able to keep her wind, and got out to sea, leaving
both her anchors behind.
Soon after the Porpoise was saved, we found ourselves likewise in equal
peril. The breakers began to whiten about the ship. The wind was not
violent, but the swell was terrible; and the long rollers filled the bay,
breaking in forty feet of water, and covering the sea with foam. Our
anchors held tolerably well; but we dragged slowly, until, from seven
fathoms, we had shoaled our water to four and a half. A council of the
officers being called, it was determined to get under way. A hawser and
stream-anchor being sent out, in order to bring the ship's head in the
proper direction for making sail, the cables were slipped. It was a moment
of intense interest; for, had the rollers or the wind inclined the ship
from her proper course, we must inevitably have been lost; but she stood
out beautifully, and soon left all peril astern.
There were still three merchant-vessels at anchor; the American barque
Reaper, a Bremen brig, and a Hamburg schooner. While we had our own danger
to encounter, we thought the less of our fellow-sufferers; but, after our
escape, it was painful to think of leaving them in jeopardy. To the
American barque (which lay inshore of us, with her colors union down) we
sent a boat, with sixteen Kroomen, by whose assistance she was saved. The
Bremen brig had her colors at half-mast, appealing to us for aid. She was
nearer to the shore than the other vessels, and lay in the midst of the
breakers, which frequently covered her from stem to stern. Her escape
seemed impossible; and her cargo, valued at thirty thousand dollars, would
have been considered a dear purchase at a thirtieth of that sum. We gave
her all the help in our power, and not without effect; but her salvation,
under Providence, was owing to a strong tide, which was setting out of the
river, and counteracted the influence of wind and swell. Finally, we had
the satisfaction to see all the vessels, one after another, come off safe.
During this scene, there was great commotion on shore, the people
evidently expecting one or all of us to be lost. When the Porpoise got
off, the Kroomen on the beach raised a great shout of joy.
29.--There is a very heavy sea this morning, with no prospect of its
immediately subsiding. The Kroomen say that it will last four days from
its commencement. It must have been terrific in the bay, last night. All
the vessels are in sight, keeping off till the swell abates. We have left
two boats behind us, and two anchors, besides the stream-anchor. There has
been nothing like this storm, since our arrival on the coast.
_July_ 2.--Again at anchor.
As we shall soon have done with Liberia, I must not forget to insert,
among the motley records of this journal, some account of its ants. The
immense number of these insects, which infest every part of the land, is a
remarkable provision in the economy of Africa, as well as of other
tropical countries. Though very destructive to houses, fences, and other
articles of value, their ravages are far more than repaid by the benefits
bestowed; for they act as scavengers in removing the great quantity of
decaying vegetable matter, which would otherwise make the atmosphere
intolerable. They perform their office both within doors and without.
Frequently, the "drivers," as they are called, enter houses in myriads,
and, penetrating to the minutest recesses, destroy everything that their
omnivorous appetite can render eatable. Whatever has the principle of
decay in it, is got rid of at once. All vermin meet their fate from these
destroyers. Food, clothing, necessaries, superfluities, mere trash, and
valuable property, are alike in their regard, and equally acceptable to
their digestive powers. They would devour this journal with as little
compunction as so much blank paper--and a sermon as readily as the
journal--nor would either meal lie heavy on their stomachs. They float on
your coffee, and crawl about your plate, and accompany the victuals to
your mouth.
The ants have a Queen, whom the colonists call Bugga-Bug. Her subjects are
divided into three classes; the Laborers, who do nothing but work--the
Soldiers, who do nothing but fight--and the Gentry, who neither work nor
fight, but spend their lives in the pleasant duty of continuing their
species. The habitations of these insects, as specimens of mechanical
ingenuity, are far superior to the houses of the natives, and are really
the finest works of architecture to be met with on the African coast. In
height, these edifices vary from four to fifteen or twenty feet, and are
sometimes ten or twelve feet in diameter at the base. They contain
apartments for magazines, for nurseries, and for all other domestic,
social, and public purposes, communicating with one another, and with the
exterior, by innumerable galleries and passages. The clay, which forms the
material of the buildings, is rendered very compact, by a glutinous
matter, mixed with earth; and all the passages, many of which extend great
distances under ground, are plastered with the same kind of stucco.
Captain Tuckey, in his expedition to the river Zaire, discovered ant-hills
composed of similar materials to the above, but which, in shape, precisely
resembled gigantic toad-stools, as high as a one-story house. In this part
of Africa, they have the form of a mound. At the present day, when the
community-principle is attracting so much attention, it would seem to be
seriously worth while for the Fourierites to observe both the social
economy and the modes of architecture of these African ants. Providence
may, if it see fit, make the instincts of the lower orders of creation a
medium of divine revelations to the human race: and, at all events, the
aforesaid Fourierites might stumble upon hints, in an ant-hill, for the
convenient arrangement of those edifices, which, if I mistake not, they
have christened Phalanxteries.
8.--At 11 A.M., got under way for the Cape de Verds.
10.--Calm in the morning, and predictions of a long passage. At noon,
sprung up a ten-knot breeze; and are sanguine of making a short run. In
the evening, at the tea-table, we were talking of the delights of
Saratoga, at this season, and contrasting the condition of the fortunate
visitors to that fashionable resort, with that of the sallow, debilitated,
discontented cruisers on the African station. In the midst of the
conversation, the cry of "man overboard," brought us all on deck with a
rush. There was not much sea, though we were going seven knots. The man
kept his head well above water, and swam steadily toward the life-buoy,
which floated at a short distance from him--his only hope--while the wide
Atlantic was yawning around him, eager for his destruction. We watched him
anxiously, until he seized it, and then thought of sharks. We were too far
at sea, however, for many of these monsters to be in attendance. In a few
moments a boat picked up man and buoy, and the ship was on her course
again.
21.--Anchored at Porto Praya.
The season of journalizing, to any good purpose, is over. Scenes and
objects in this region have been so often presented to my eyes, that they
now fail to make the vivid impressions which could alone enable me (were
that ever possible) to weave them into a lively narrative of my
adventures. My entries therefore, for the rest of the cruise, are likely
to be "few, and far between."