The fleet touched at several ports on their way. Some portions of his
Journal at St. Salvador, in South America, will give an interesting
variety to our pages.
“I continued my walk in quest of a wood, or some trees where I might
sit down; but all was appropriated: no tree was to be approached
except through an enclosure. At last I came to a magnificent porch,
before a garden gate, which was open, I walked in, but finding the
vista led straight to the house, I turned to the right, and found
myself in a grove of cocoa-nut trees, orange trees, and several
strange fruit trees; under them was nothing but rose trees, but
no verdure on the ground: oranges were strewed like apples in an
orchard. Perceiving that I was observed by the slaves, I came up to
the house, and was directed by them to an old man sitting under a
tree, apparently insensible from illness. I spoke to him in French
and in English, but he took no notice. Presently a young man and a
young lady appeared, to whom I spoke in French, and was very politely
desired to sit down at a little table, which was standing under a
large space before the house like a veranda. They then brought me
oranges, and a small red acid fruit, the name of which I asked,
but cannot recollect. The young man sat opposite, conversing about
Cambridge; he had been educated in a Portuguese University. Almost
immediately on finding I was of Cambridge, he invited me to come when
I liked to his house. A slave, after bringing the fruit, was sent to
gather three roses for me; the master then walked with me round the
garden, and showed me, among the rest, the coffee-plant: when I left
him he repeated his invitation. His name was Antonio Corrè.”
“_Nov. 14th._—Sennor Antonio received me with the same cordiality:
he begged me to dine with him. In the cool of the evening, we walked
out to see his plantation; here every thing possessed the charm of
novelty. The grounds included two hills, and a valley between them.
The hills were covered with cocoa-nut trees, bananas, mangoes, orange
and lemon trees, olives, coffee, chocolate, and cotton plants, &c.
In the valley was a large plantation of a shrub or tree, bearing a
cluster of small berries, which he desired me to taste; I did, and
found it was pepper. It had lately been introduced from Batavia,
and answered very well. It grows on a stem about the thickness of
a finger, to the height of about seven feet, and is supported by a
stick, which, at that height, has another across it for the branches
to spread upon. Slaves were walking about the grounds, watering the
trees, and turning up the earth: the soil appeared very dry and
loose. At night I returned to the ship in one of the country boats,
which are canoes made of a tree hollowed out, and paddled by three
men.”
“_Nov. 18th._—Went ashore at six o’clock, and found that Sennor
Antonio had been waiting for me two hours. It being too late to go
into the country, I staid at his house till dinner. He kept me too
much in his company, but I found intervals for retirement. In a cool
and shady part of the garden, near some water, I sat and sang—‘O’er
the gloomy hills of darkness.’ I could read and pray aloud, as there
was no fear of any one understanding me.
“A slave, in my bed-room, washed my feet. I was struck with the
degree of abasement expressed in the act, and as he held the foot
in the towel, with his head bowed down towards it, I remembered the
condescension of the blessed Lord. May I have grace to follow such
humility!”
“_Nov. 19th._—Early after breakfast went in a palanquin to Sennor
Dominigo’s, and from thence with him two or three miles into the
country: at intervals I got out and walked. I was gratified with
the sight of what I wanted to see; namely, some part of the country
in its original state, covered with wood; it was hilly, but not
mountainous. The luxuriance was so rank, that the whole space, even
to the tops of the trees, was filled with long stringy shrubs and
weeds, so as to make them impervious and opaque. The road was made
by cutting away the earth on the side of the hill, so that there
were woods above and below us. The object of our walk was to see a
pepper plantation, made in a valley, on a perfect level. The symmetry
of the trees was what charmed my Portuguese friend; but to me, who
was seeking the wild features of America, it was just what I did
not want. The person who showed us the grounds, was one that had
been a major in the Portuguese army, and had retired on a pension.
The border consisted of pine apples, planted between each tree;
the interior was set with lemon trees, here and there, between the
pepper plants. We were shown the root of the mandioc, called by us
tapioca; it was like a large horse radish; the mill for grinding
it was extremely simple; a horizontal wheel, turned by horses, put
in motion a vertical one, on the circumference of which was a thin
brazen plate, furnished on the inside like a nutmeg grater; a slave
held the root to the wheel, which grated it away, and threw it in the
form of a moist paste, into a receptacle below: it is then dried in
pans, and used as a farina with meat. At Sennor Antonio’s, a plate of
tapioca was attached to each of our plates. Some of the pepper was
nearly ripe, and of a reddish appearance; when gathered, which it is
in April, it is dried in the sun.”
“_Nov. 23._—In the afternoon took leave of my kind friends Sennor and
Sennora Corrè. They and the rest came out to the garden gate, and
continued looking, till the winding of the road hid me from their
sight. The poor slave Raymond, who had attended me and carried my
things, burst into a flood of tears, as we left the door; and when I
parted from him, he was going to kiss my feet; but I shook hands with
him, much affected by such extraordinary kindness, in people to whom
I had been a total stranger, till within a few days. What shall I
render unto the Lord for all his mercies?”
It had lately been announced to the army which was carried in the
fleet, that they were to be led to attack the cape of Good Hope, then
held by the Dutch. This intelligence, which had been kept secret,
until they were approaching the cape, excited Mr. Martyn to be more
active in the service of these men, who were soon to be exposed to
the dangers of warfare, and many of whom would, probably, be sent to
eternity. He observed a day of fasting and prayer in their behalf,
addressed them from the scriptures whenever he had opportunity,
and several were induced to kneel publicly in prayer with him,
notwithstanding the ridicule and carelessness of the greater part of
the crew and soldiers. During a season of great sickness on board his
ship, at which time the captain died, he was very useful in attending
to the wants of the sick, and leading their minds to consider the
necessity of preparation for eternity. On the last Sunday of this
year he preached a sermon, adapted to their circumstances, from 2
Pet. iii. 11. “Seeing then that all these things shall be dissolved,
what manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and
godliness:” in which he endeavoured to impress his hearers with a
sense of the importance of religion, reminding them of the ways
by which Providence had been calling them to reflection, by the
prevalence of disease, the death of their captain, the dangers of the
voyage, and the prospect of being engaged in battle. His own mind
enjoyed great peace at this time, as is evident from his diary.
“Separated from my friends and country for ever, there is nothing to
distract me from hearing ‘the voice of my beloved,’ and coming away
from this world, and walking with him in love, amidst the flowers
that perfume the air of paradise, and the harmony of the happy, happy
saints who are singing his praise. Thus hath the Lord brought me to
the conclusion of the year; and though I have broken his statutes,
and not kept his commandments, yet he hath not utterly taken away
his loving kindness, nor suffered his truth to fail. I thought, at
the beginning of the year, that I should have been in India at this
time, if I should have escaped all the dangers of the climate. These
dangers are yet to come; but I can leave all cheerfully to God. If I
am weary of any thing, it is of my life of sinfulness. I want a life
of more devotion and holiness; and yet am so vain, as to be expecting
the end without the means. I am far from regretting that I ever
came on this delightful work; were I to choose for myself, I could
scarcely find a situation more agreeable to my taste. On, therefore,
let me go, and persevere steadily in this blessed undertaking:
through the grace of God, dying daily to the opinions of men, and
aiming, with a more single eye, at the glory of the everlasting God.”
On the third of January 1806, the fleet anchored at the cape, and
the army was landed, and led to the attack, which commenced early
the next morning. As soon as the battle was over, Mr. Martyn went on
shore, in hopes of being useful to the sufferers. His own account
of the scene, in a letter to a friend in England, gives a terrible
picture of a field of battle.
“I embraced the opportunity of getting to the wounded men, soon after
my landing. A party of the company’s troops were ordered to repair
to the field of battle, to bring away the wounded, under the command
of Major ——, whom I knew. By his permission, I attached myself to
them, and marched six miles over a soft burning sand, till we reached
the fatal spot. We found several but slightly hurt; and these we
left for a while, after seeing their wounds dressed by a surgeon.
A little onward were three mortally wounded. One of them, on being
asked where he was struck, opened his shirt and showed a wound in
his left breast. The blood which he was spitting, showed that he had
been shot through the lungs. As I spread my great coat over him, by
the surgeon’s desire, who passed on without attempting to save him,
I spoke of the blessed gospel, and besought him to look to Jesus
Christ for salvation. He was surprised, but could not speak; and I
was obliged to leave him, in order to reach the troops, from whom
the officers, out of regard to my safety, would not allow me to be
separated. Among several others, some wounded, and some dead, was
Captain ——; who was shot by a rifleman. We all stopped for a while,
to gaze, in pensive silence, on his pale body, and then passed on, to
witness more proofs of the sin and misery of fallen man. Descending
into the plain, where the main body of each army had met, I saw some
of the fifty-ninth, one of whom, a corporal, who sometimes had sung
with us, told me that none of the fifty-ninth were killed, and none
of the officers wounded. Some farm-houses, which had been in the rear
of the enemy’s army, had been converted into an hospital for the
wounded, whom they were bringing from all quarters. The surgeon told
me that there were already in the houses two hundred, some of whom
were Dutch. A more ghastly spectacle than that which presented itself
here, I could not have conceived. They were ranged without and within
the house, in rows, covered with gore. Indeed, it was the blood,
which they had not had time to wash off, that made their appearance
more dreadful than the reality: for few of their wounds were mortal.
The confusion was very great: and sentries and officers were so
strict in their duty, that I had no fit opportunity of speaking
to any of them, except a Dutch captain, with whom I conversed in
French. After this, I walked out again with the surgeon to the field,
and saw several of the enemy’s wounded. A Hottentot, who had had
his thigh broken by a ball, was lying in extreme agony, biting the
dust, and uttering horrid imprecations upon the Dutch. I told him
that he ought to pray for his enemies; and after telling the poor
wretched man of the gospel, I begged him to pray to Jesus Christ.
But our conversation was soon interrupted; for, in the absence of
the surgeon, who was gone back for his instruments, a highland
soldier came up, and challenged me with the words, ‘Who are you?’ ‘An
Englishman.’ ‘No,’ said he, ‘you are French,’ and began to present
his piece. As I saw that he was rather intoxicated, and did not know
but that he might actually fire, out of mere wantonness, I sprang
up towards him, and told him, that if he doubted my word, he might
take me as his prisoner to the English camp,—but that I certainly was
an English clergyman. This pacified him, and he behaved with great
respect. The surgeon, on examining the wound, said the man must die,
and so left him. At length, I found an opportunity of returning, as
I much wished, in order to recover from distraction of mind, and to
give free scope to reflection. I lay down on the border of a clump of
shrubs or bushes, with the field of battle in view, and there lifted
up my soul to God. Mournful as the scene was, I yet thanked God that
he had brought me to see a specimen, though a terrible one, of what
men by nature are. May the remembrance of this day ever excite me to
pray and labour more for the propagation of the gospel of peace. Then
shall men love one another: nation shall not lift up sword against
nation, neither shall they learn war any more. The blue mountains,
to the eastward, which formed the boundary of the prospect, were a
cheering contrast to what was immediately before me; for there I
conceived my beloved and honoured fellow servants,[1] companions in
the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ, to be passing the days
of their pilgrimage, far from the world, imparting the truths of
the precious gospel to benighted souls. May I receive grace to be a
follower of their faith and patience; and do you pray, my brother,
as I know that you do, that I may have a heart more warm, and a zeal
more ardent in this glorious cause.”
On the tenth, the fort and town were taken from the Dutch. Whilst
the fleet was delayed, Martyn visited Dr. Vanderkemp, and the other
missionaries at the cape, and his meeting with them was a source of
great joy.
“From the first moment I arrived, I had been anxiously inquiring
about Dr. Vanderkemp. I heard at last, to my no small delight, that
he was now in Cape Town. But it was long before I could find him. At
length I did. He was standing outside of the house, silently looking
up at the stars. A great number of black people were sitting around.
On my introducing myself, he led me in, and called for Mr. Read. I
was beyond measure delighted at the happiness of seeing him too.
The circumstance of meeting with these beloved and highly honoured
brethren, so filled me with joy and gratitude for the goodness of
God’s providence, that I hardly knew what to do.”
“_January 14th._—Continued walking with Mr. Read till late. He gave
me a variety of curious information respecting the mission. He told
me of his marvellous success amongst the heathen; how he had heard
them amongst the bushes pouring out their hearts to God. At all this
my ‘soul did magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoiced in God my
Saviour.’ Now that I am in a land where the Spirit of God appears,
as in the ancient days, as in the generation of old, let a double
portion of that Spirit rest upon this unworthy head, that I may go
forth to my work ‘rejoicing like a strong man, to run my race.’”
“_January 20th._—Walking home, I asked Dr. Vanderkemp if he had ever
repented of his undertaking. No, said the old man, smiling, and
I would not exchange my work for a kingdom. Read told me some of
his trials; he has often been so reduced, for want of clothes, as
scarcely to have any to cover him. The reasonings of his mind were,—I
am here, Lord, in thy service; why am I left in this state? It seemed
to be suggested to him, If thou wilt be my servant, be contented to
fare in this way; if not, go, and fare better. His mind was thus
satisfied to remain God’s missionary, with all its concomitant
hardships. At night, my sinful soul enjoyed a most reviving season in
prayer; I rejoiced greatly in the Lord, and pleaded with fervour for
the interests of his church.”
“_January 30th._—Rose at five, and began to ascend Table mountain
at six, with S—— and M——; I went on chiefly alone. I thought of the
Christian life,—what uphill work it is,—and yet there are streams
flowing down from the top, just as there was water coming down by
the Kloof, by which we ascended. Towards the top it was very steep,
but the hope of being soon at the summit, encouraged me to ascend
very lightly. As the kloof opened, a beautiful flame-coloured flower
appeared in a little green hollow, waving in the breeze. It seemed
to be an emblem of the beauty and peacefulness of heaven, as it
shall open upon the weary soul, when its journey is finished, and
the struggles of the death-bed are over. We walked up and down the
whole length, which might be between two and three miles, and one
might be said to look round the world from this promontory. I felt a
solemn awe at the grand prospect, from which there was neither noise
nor small objects to draw off my attention. I reflected, especially
when looking at the immense expanse of sea on the east, which was to
carry me to India, on the certainty that the name of Christ should,
at some period, resound from shore to shore. I felt commanded to
wait in silence, and see how God would bring his promises to pass.
We began to descend at half past two. Whilst sitting to rest myself,
towards night, I began to reflect, with death-like despondency, on
my friendless condition. Not that I wanted any of the comforts of
life, but I wanted those kind friends who loved me, and in whose
company I used to find so much delight after my fatigues. And then,
remembering that I should never see them more, I felt one of those
keen pangs of misery, that occasionally shoot across my breast. It
seemed like a dream, that I had actually undergone banishment from
them for life; or rather like a dream, that I had ever hoped to share
the enjoyments of social life. But, at this time, I solemnly renewed
my self-dedication to God, praying that I might receive grace to
spend my days for his service, in continued suffering, and separation
from all I held most dear in this life: Amen. How vain and transitory
are those pleasures which the worldliness of my heart will ever be
magnifying into real good!—The rest of the evening, I felt weaned
from the world and all its concerns, with somewhat of a melancholy
tranquillity.”
“_January 31._—From great fatigue of body, was in doubt about going
to the hospital, and very unwilling to go. However, I went, and
preached with more freedom than ever I had done there. Having some
conversation with Colonel H——, I asked him whether, if the wound he
had received in the late engagement had been mortal, his profaneness
would have recurred with any pleasure to his mind on a death-bed. He
made some attempts at palliation, though in great confusion; but bore
the admonition very patiently.”
“_February 5th._—Rose early; walked out, discouraged at the small
progress I make in the eastern languages. My state of bodily and
mental indolence was becoming so alarming, that I struggled hard
against both, crying to God for strength. Notwithstanding the
reluctance in my own heart, I went to the hospital, and preached
on Matt. xi. 28; from this time I enjoyed peace and happiness. Dr.
Vanderkemp called to take leave. I accompanied him and brother Smith
out of the town, with their two wagons. The dear old man showed much
affection, and gave me advice, and a blessing at parting. While we
were standing to take leave, Koster, a Dutch missionary, was just
entering the town with his bundle, having been driven from his place
of residence. Brother Read, also, appeared from another quarter,
though we thought he had gone to sea. These, with Yons,[2] and
myself, made six missionaries, who, in a few minutes, all parted
again.”
Besides visiting and preaching at the hospital, among the wounded
English, he held public service at the house in which he lodged. In
February the fleet again sailed: on the 22d of April anchored before
Madras, and in the middle of May, he landed at Calcutta.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The Moravian missionaries at Grœnekloof and Gnadenthal, and those
belonging to the London Missionary Society at Bethelsdorp.
[2] Probably the missionary destined for Madagascar.