LETTER XLV.

Cape St. Nicholas Mole, August.

It were futile, as unnecessary, to attempt describing the sensation I

experienced on finding myself upon the island of St. Domingo. I had for

a long time looked to this colony as a kind of military home, where I

should meet my comrades, overtake my books and baggage, and receive a

packet of letters, which had been nearly two years accumulating, from

many valued friends whom I had left in England.

From the period of joining the expedition, I had been taught to regard

this island as my place of service, and in my wanderings from it, I had

been exposed to many dangers of climate, disease, the enemy, and the

sea. You will feel, therefore, that it was matter of no common

gratification, after so perilous an absence, to arrive in safety at my

station. But, alas! it remains a solitary consolation; for all my

happiest expectations are disappointed! My books and baggage have been

sent away, and captured by the enemy; my letters, which I had so long

contemplated as a rich fund of delight, have, in the despair of my

coming, been returned to England; and my comrades, the companions of my

voyage to these baleful regions, are most of them either dead, or gone

in search of their lost health to milder climates!

The hope that I was soon to meet the friends who had accompanied me from

England, and to read of those whom I had left behind, had constituted my

best support, through all my toils in proceeding toward St. Domingo;

but, now, the spot which I had anticipated as my happiest residence,

offers only disappointment and sorrow. In my round of duty I shall have

to tread the very steps which have led to the melancholy fate of my

comrades, exposed to the additional affliction of daily passing their

graves.

Your heart will swell with sympathy when you read that my esteemed

friend, Dr. Cleghorn, fell an early victim to the cruel ravager of

European vigour; that my colleagues, Weir, Fellowes, Henderson, and

Carroll, have all returned to England, exhausted by disease; and that my

respected comrade, Dr. Master, was embarking at the very moment of my

arrival, in an almost hopeless state of sickness, for the more temperate

region of North America. Fortunately, the vessel did not sail at the

time appointed; my friend availed himself, therefore, of the opportunity

to return on shore, and we passed a few hours together before he finally

took his departure. To you, who can duly estimate such hours, I need not

say how highly they were appreciated: they were dear to my feelings, and

will ever be hallowed in my remembrance[9].

Having thus lost my friend Master the day after my arrival, and Gen.

Whyte, Col. Grant, Dr. Jackson, &c. having taken up their quarters at

Port au Prince, I find myself amidst a body of strangers, feeling, as it

were, unknown and alone; with the further intimation that I am, already,

left in the island the only physician, of the six who were appointed for

St. Domingo, upon the late great expedition to the western colonies.

In the absence of Mr. Weir, the direction of the medical department

devolves upon Dr. Jackson; but, as he is stationed at head-quarters, I

find the hospitals at the Mole under the immediate control of Dr. Scott,

who has obligingly accompanied me to wait upon Col. Stuart, the military

commandant, and Sir Hyde Parker, the commander in chief of the naval

department; yet I cannot feel that I have decidedly joined the staff, or

that I am officially upon duty at St. Domingo, until I shall have had an

opportunity of reporting myself, at head-quarters, to my friend Gen.

Whyte, who has succeeded to the chief command of the troops. For this

purpose, therefore, I am preparing to make another sea voyage, and shall

embark in the course of a few days for Port au Prince.

Of the Mole I have nothing very interesting to note. It is a valuable

port on account of its safe and commodious harbour for shipping; but

neither the town, nor the country around it, presents any richness or

beauty. The scenery consists of rude and barren mountains, with confined

valleys and narrow heated gullies. The town is built at the edge of the

water, upon a hot and sandy soil; the houses, as is usual in this

climate, are of wood, and exhibit more of convenience than elegance of

structure; some of them are provided with piazzas in front; but, as in

the other towns of the West Indies, they are less general than might be

expected.

Behind the town, in a kind of amphitheatre about it, the rough and

steril land rises into huge mountains; upon the sides of which, and upon

the smaller eminences, have been erected block-houses, which form a

chain of defensive posts, and serve to cover the place, while they

strengthen the general position, rendering it, in a great degree, secure

against the unpractised enemy, with whom we have to contend, although

they might constitute but a feeble barrier against a more disciplined

army of Europeans. At the lower extremity, beyond the streets, is a

formidable battery, commanding the entrance of the harbour; and upon

some hills, separated by a narrow gully from the upper part of the town,

have been erected several of the temporary hospitals brought out from

England, in which the sick are very commodiously accommodated.

These receptacles of disease are far from being tenanted in the same

proportion, at present, as for several months past, during which time

the fever raged here with accumulated fury, spreading dreadful havoc and

destruction among the troops.

A convenient and spacious house, situated in an open square at the best

part of the Mole, is allotted as the quarters of the person appointed to

superintend the hospital department. Since the departure of Mr. Weir,

this has been occupied by Doctors Scott and Master; and I have, now, at

once the fortunate and melancholy lot of succeeding to the apartment

lately occupied by the latter.

A mess is established for the medical officers; and, considering the

scarcity of fresh provisions at this place, it may be said to be well

supplied.

Saltpork, pease-soup, rice, and the vegetables of the country being in

plenty, constitute very useful standing dishes, and the table is seldom

without some addition of fish, poultry, or other fresh animal food.

From the territory immediately round the Mole being in possession of the

enemy, or, to use the more common term, the brigands, stock and other

provisions cannot be procured from the country estates or plantations,

as in the other colonies; the supply therefore depends chiefly on North

America; and in the failure of vessels arriving from the United States,

with stock on board, fresh provisions become extravagantly dear,

insomuch that at times sixteen or eighteen dollars have been paid for a

turkey, ten for a couple of ducks, and six or eight for a pair of

chickens.

Of fruit the quantity is also very limited; the most plentiful are

melons, grapes, and figs: pines, mangoes, shaddocks, and many other

species, which we have been accustomed to meet with in the other

islands, are here very scarce.

In the dry and sandy valley which separates the town from the hills,

whereon the hospitals are erected, means have been taken to raise

vegetables for the use of the sick; and the success of the attempt

displays, very amply, how much may be effected, in this climate, by

culture even of the most arid and seemingly barren soil. By the aid of a

small current of water, a mere gully of sand is converted into a

prolific garden.

The vegetable world, in these regions, is in a high degree obedient to

control, and the abundance and rapidity with which the growth of plants

may be called forth, by only slight attention to the land, is really

surprising. The labour employed is very liberally rewarded, for the most

steril spots, gratefully responsive to the care bestowed upon them,

grant to industry a generous return.

Notes on the West Indies, vol. 2 of 2 · 第 104 / 145 题