Mahaica, August 7, 1796.
Again my residence is changed, and I have to address you from a new
home. The same unhappy cause which removed me from Berbische to La
Bourgade, called me thence to an important post, occupied by a strong
division of our troops at Mahaica. Disease has spread over the whole
extent of this coast, and threatens every European with an attack.
Unhappily no exemption is granted in favor of the medical attendants,
and at a period when we are most required to relieve the sickness of
others, we are most liable to it ourselves. On my arrival at Mahaica, I
had the misfortune to find the medical assistant, upon this station,
lying in an advanced stage of yellow fever, rapidly sinking into the
grave, which has since swallowed his remains. Accounts have also reached
me of the death of another of our professional comrades, whom I left
only a few days ago in good health, at the hospital at La Bourgade.
These are afflicting deductions from our scanty establishment, and they
are the more painfully felt in consequence of some of the regiments not
having with them either of their medical officers; which throws the
whole of the regimental, as well as the hospital duty, upon the few
gentlemen of the St. Domingo staff, who were detached to these colonies;
and whose situation, at this critical juncture, is harassing and
distressful to the highest degree. From the heavy pressure of sickness,
and the necessarily remote distribution of our very limited division, it
is only with extreme toil and exertion that we are able to do justice to
the poor suffering objects who claim our attention: yet, with an
increasing demand for our services, we have the severe misfortune to see
our numbers and our means diminish.
My own best efforts shall not be wanting, but I am well aware that there
are many comforts I could wish for the sick, which, from the
circumstances of the moment, it will be wholly impossible to procure for
them. At this post I have the charge of a crowded host of patients, all
inconveniently placed, and have neither an apothecary, a mate, nor any
other medical man to assist me: I am exposed therefore to incessant and
almost insupportable fatigue. My whole day is spent amidst the sick, or
in procuring for them some accommodation: they occupy all my time and
all my care.
Unfortunately, too, my quarters are nearly a mile from the hospital, and
I have that distance to walk four times every day, which, alone, is
considered by the inhabitants as a degree of labour, sufficient to
destroy the strongest frame. At six o’clock, I make my morning visit,
when several hours are fully employed, with my head bent almost to the
ground, in examining and listening to nearly a hundred patients, all
lying upon paillasses spread on the floor; and many of them scarcely
able to hear, or reply to my questions. After this I have to instruct an
orderly soldier to compound my prescriptions, and to see him administer
the medicines. Next I have to prescribe the provisions, and the mode of
preparing them for the convalescents; which is here no less a duty than
to order medicine for the sick; and further, from having no purveyor, it
falls to my lot, in some degree, to superintend even the cooking;
otherwise, as only salt meat is issued, our messes would scarcely be
made eatable—certainly not palatable, nor fit for the stomachs of men
only recovering from disease. But from great care and attention, in
having the meat steeped the over-night, then well scalded, and
afterwards stewed in fresh water, with rice, yams, sweet potatoes, peas,
or broken pieces of bread, we form various changes of nutritive, and not
disagreeable pottage.
Having gone through the whole of these ceremonies, which you will
believe consume a full proportion of the forenoon, I have to walk back
to the barracks, and am frequently so exhausted as to be obliged to
throw myself at full length upon my mattress, and lie for a considerable
time before I can recover sufficient strength either to bathe my person,
or take my breakfast.
In the evening I return again to the hospital, and repeat my visit to
the sick as in the morning. Whenever I can command an interval it is
employed in writing, for, in addition to my other engagements, I have to
make out the necessary returns for the commanding officer, and for
head-quarters, also to keep full and correct statements of all accompts,
receipts, and hospital disbursements.
Amidst my busy round, I often hear it whispered, that the toil to which
I am subjected must _soon destroy_ me; and many of the officers and
planters are kind enough to express friendly apprehensions regarding my
safety: but, at this hour of need, no personal considerations can induce
me to relax in my duty. More than my utmost efforts are required to
procure only scanty comforts for the sick, and, under such
circumstances, I can neither enjoy rest, nor shun fatigue. Not only an
imperious sense of duty, but humanity also calls upon me to contribute
every aid in my power, and I cannot but feel that to limit my exertions,
or diminish my efforts would be unjust, if not even criminal, towards
the unfortunate objects of my care. With respect to disease I feel not
the slightest personal apprehension, and even if I did, I should deem it
necessary, situated as I now am, to subdue my terrors. A military
officer does not shrink from a cannon, although he sees it pointed
towards him! nor ought a medical officer to turn from disease, which it
is his duty to meet and to combat! I have been always of opinion that
the physician, who deserts his post, in the hour of sickness, is not
less a coward than the officer who abandons his garrison at a period of
danger; or the soldier who turns his back upon an enemy in the field of
battle: therefore, however anxious the kindness of my friends and
comrades may render them, concerning my safety, I cannot prevail upon
myself to lessen my exertions.
From its situation Mahaica might be regarded as one of the most healthy
posts in Guiana. It is open to the sea, and freely exposed to the cool
breeze. We have no town, nor village near us. The name is given to a
certain district about the mouth of (what is here termed a creek, but
what is in fact) a considerable river, called by the Indians Mahaica.
The fort, in point of strength, offers nothing formidable, but its site
is well chosen as a military post, being on the coast between the two
rivers Demarara and Berbische, about twenty miles from the former, and
fifty from the latter: and immediately upon the border of the sea,
commanding the entrance of the river Mahaica, and of a smaller creek
which opens nearly at the same spot into the ocean. Next to Fort William
Frederic, and Fort St. Andrew, Mahaica is the most important garrison in
the two colonies. The barracks at the fort are not large enough to
contain the whole of the troops now stationed here; the house and other
buildings, therefore, of a neighbouring estate, called Lancaster, are
occupied for that purpose. Indeed, to meet the exigencies of the moment,
we are compelled to appropriate every room at the fort to the use of the
sick; and all the officers and soldiers, who are well, are removed to
the plantation Lancaster, which is nearly a mile from the fort, upon the
same bank of the river, but on the opposite side of the creek.
Lancaster is a large cotton estate belonging to the representatives of a
Mr. Phillips, who is lately dead. It is now under the direction of a
manager, subject to the control of an attorney; the former residing on
the spot, the latter at a plantation in the vicinity.
This estate is traversed in various parts by double rows of trees,
forming a pleasant shade between them; and, bearing a fruit, resembling,
in flavour, the Turkey fig, are hence called figtrees. They are rather
larger than the orange trees, and their foliage is thick and green. The
fruit is about the size of the coffee berry: it is filled with small
seeds, and in substance is like the fig.
With respect to provisions, we are less happy than regarding our
quarters. Salt meat and the vegetables of the country constitute our
almost unvaried fare. Occasionally we procure a Muscovy duck, a chicken,
a young kid, or a sucking pig, and then it is high feast. Our standing
dishes are pease-soup, and salt pork. The plantain also furnishes a
steady supply. We now eat this with creole appetite, and although we, at
first, disliked it, we begin to consider it as one of the most pleasant
and useful articles of food, which the country affords: roasted, it
serves as bread—boiled, it is used as a table-vegetable—stewed, or
fried, it is eaten as fruit—and pounded in a mortar, it makes excellent
pudding. The yam is also a substantial friend to us; as are likewise the
eddoes and cassada. The potatoes of the country are sweet and satiating,
and not much esteemed. We occasionally obtain a few which have been
brought from Europe in the trading ships: and these we enjoy as a great
treat. The officers of the 99th regiment, now on duty here, have kindly
received me into the regimental mess, which, by offering me the common
supply of their table, happily relieves me from all the trouble and
concern of seeking provisions; and is at this moment of hurry and
fatigue, an important accommodation.