Chapter 15 of 31 · 3998 words · ~20 min read

Part 15

Carlisle Bay is become quite the busy Thames of the West Indies. Scarcely a day passes without the arrival of vessels from one part of the globe or another. To us this affords a degree of interest and amusement; for we are frequently enlivened by the signals made for vessels either coming into harbour, or appearing in sight, and which prove to be from different, and widely separated coasts. English ships of war, merchantmen, and transports; slave-ships from the coast of Africa; packets, prizes, American traders; island vessels, privateers, fishing smacks, and different kinds of boats, cutters, and luggers, are among the almost hourly variety, to be seen either entering or quitting Carlisle Bay.

The day after the Arethusa came in we were early enlivened by signals for two other vessels approaching from windward; but they proved to be ships from very opposite coasts; one being from Halifax; the other a Guinea-man with a cargo of slaves from Africa.

Several vessels of the Cork division have joined us within the few last days; but none of them bring any accurate tidings of the fleet; most of them having parted from the convoy, during the first or second night after quitting the harbour, and not having met with it since. The Charlotte transport was chased by a privateer at the distance of only a few leagues from Barbadoes, and must, inevitably, have been taken, but for the fortunate circumstance of a slave-ship, from the coast of Guinea, coming up at the time, and engaging her pursuer. A running action was maintained, for two hours, between this ship and the privateer, when the latter sheered off, leaving the Guinea-man, and her protegée, to proceed quietly to Barbadoes; the slave-ship having suffered considerably in her rigging.

The Madras East Indiaman and a packet are this day arrived from England. They departed, the one from Falmouth, the other from St. Helen’s, on the 23d of February, and have completed the passage within a month. The Madras brings a cargo of ordnance stores. She sailed alone, and made a running voyage. Several persons availed themselves of the opportunity of coming out in this ship as passengers: she has also a small party of artillery-men on board.

The arrival of the present packet has not caused so great a sensation as was produced by the appearance of that which I mentioned to you before, although we are much pleased and gratified to see it. We have now an ample supply both of English and American papers, and from the arrivals being more frequent, and the commander in chief among us, the sad torpor of the preceding weeks no longer reigns. Activity prevails, and the suspense of waiting is alleviated by busy preparation.

We have lately had an opportunity of visiting the Venus slave-ship of London, just arrived with a cargo of blacks, from the coast of Africa. The ship appeared small: there was a want of space, and the negroes seemed crowded; but, in all other respects, we were pleased to remark the excellence of the accommodations, and the great attention paid to the health and comfort of the slaves. The cargo consisted of 230 prime negroes, all in high health, and good spirits. The ship was remarkably clean. No sickness had occurred among the Africans, or the crew; nor had any one died upon the passage. They made the voyage in six weeks, and the slaves were fed the whole time with Guinea corn. The average value of the cargo is calculated at nearly 50_l._ for each person. The captain has but few hands in his ship’s company, yet, from his kind treatment of the blacks, he has so well secured their attachment and obedience, as to feel no apprehension of a revolt, or of any occurrence to menace their safety.

Dr. Cleghorn and myself continue our pedestrian excursions about the neighbourhood of the bay. In one of our late rambles we ascended some hills in the vicinity of Bridge-town, which afford a fine landscape of the island, together with a view of the town, the harbour, and the sea.

Situated below this mountainous range is the plantation of a Mr. Daniel; an old estate which is sheltered, and rendered picturesque by the adjoining hills. Here we saw a very lofty and fine avenue of trees, of the valuable lignum vitæ; also an immensely large and ancient tamarind tree, of more extended branches, and wider trunk than the antique oaks, or spreading elms, which are sometimes seen to grace the door-way of our old English dwellings. The tamarind is of the Mimosa tribe, and may be regarded as a very handsome example of vegetable production. It bears an immense quantity of fruit, which hanging among the small leaves, in the numerous pods of a dirty brown colour, gives a singular appearance, without adding to the beauty of the tree. Upon this old ornament of the mansion were many bushels, perhaps I might say many hogsheads of tamarinds, which were left to fall useless on the ground. Esteemed as this fruit is in Europe, in its preserved state, it seems to be as little valued here, as the common crab of the hedges in England, and is equally neglected, not being considered worth the labour of gathering, or the expense of the sugar required in preserving it.

LETTER XXX.

Barbadoes, March.

I should have mentioned to you in my last letter, that, from joining in the general greetings on the glad occasion of Sir R. Abercromby’s long-expected arrival, and hoping to learn that we were immediately to proceed to St. Domingo, we lost no time in waiting upon the commander in chief: but I am sorry to tell you that we are likely to be detained longer from our place of destination, it being intended that we should wait the arrival of General Whyte, and the Cork division, and all proceed to St. Domingo under the same convoy.

I am happy to announce to you that the ills of climate have, hitherto, scarcely reached me: but my friends Cleghorn and Master are greater sufferers than myself. All of us are annoyed by the prickly heat, and those tormenting insects the musquitoes; but, in Cleghorn, the prickly heat is so violent, as to become a sore eruption; and, on the legs of Master, the bites of musquitoes have produced very troublesome ulcers: in addition to these evils, both of my friends are frequently seized with bleeding at the nose; with which I have not been once attacked.

Notwithstanding that they are more disturbed by the effects of climate than I am, they often amuse themselves at my continuing to observe an abstemious diet, and to persevere in the habit of drinking water; and are even bold enough to propose that we should establish a tontine, with the benefit of survivorship. “Let us,” say they, “enter into an engagement that he who lives longest shall be entitled to the clothes, arms, baggage, and horses of those who may chance to die, previous to our return to England. Water,” continue they, “will render you the most palatable to the hungry devourer of these regions, and, of course, _you_ will be his earliest prey.”—“On the contrary, my friends,” I reply, “you lay a bait for this ravenous destroyer, by preparing for him inviting juices, enriched with wine, and high-essenced dishes!”

Were it fit to take up this subject professionally, or to trouble you with medical discussions, I might offer some powerful reasons why I have a better chance of again seeing England, than either of my agreeable associates. Our comrade, Weir, smiles at our calculations, and being in a manner secure, from having undergone nine years seasoning at Jamaica, feels it probable that he may have to return alone, and report the fate of us all.

Endless, surely, are to be the vexations and disappointments attending this expedition! In every attempt, every branch of it would seem destined to meet with delay and disaster. In the papers, received by the last packet, we read that the Cork fleet, which we had flattered ourselves was within a few leagues of Barbadoes, has put back into Cove harbour. In this we have great and severe disappointment. It was the division with which we were to proceed to our place of destination, and from the ships which have already arrived reporting so favorably of the voyage, and the weather, it is a mortification very unexpected.

We have now to bid adieu to our rural excursions, and maroon-like wanderings, about the pleasant island of Barbadoes; for it is ordered that the physicians of the St. Domingo staff shall consider themselves on duty, at the general hospital at St. Anne’s Hill; and it has fallen to my lot to be the first employed. We are also further required to inspect the troops on board the ships of the Cork division, as they come into harbour, in order to report their state of health, or disease. Luckily our residence, on board the Lord Sheffield, is singularly convenient for the performance of these services; we hope therefore to be able to continue our social mess; and to live in the cool breeze, afloat, instead of being crowded into close and heated lodgings on shore.

Being in the bay, we readily see every ship as it comes in, and can, without delay, take off a boat to proceed upon our visit of inspection: nor are we less happily placed for the hospital, being able to reach it in a boat, much quicker than we could walk to it from the town.

Sickness, I am sorry to remark, is already appearing among us. The hospitals are full, and some of the troops are obliged to quit their barracks, in order that these may be converted into sick wards: but do not imagine that we are suffering from disease of climate. It is not so. The disorder which now exists, has been brought with the troops. It is the common hospital or ship fever—is the consequence of the soldiers being long detained in crowded vessels, and has nothing to do with “_La Maladie du Pays_.”

The ships of the Cork division, notwithstanding their quick passage, arrive with the troops in a very unhealthy state, but they must have been sickly when they embarked, or before they left the harbour. From the specimen we have in the Abergavenny and Hindostan, we have nothing favorable to expect from the seeming accommodation of employing such large vessels, as troop-ships. In none of the transports have we, yet, found the men more unhealthy: but, from the habits of cleanliness, commonly observed on board the East India ships, and, more especially, from several active and intelligent military officers being on board, no suspicion can be entertained of any of the rules of cleanliness or regularity having been neglected among the troops.

To me it has always appeared unwise to employ any ship, as a transport for troops, in which the men are obliged to sleep upon two different decks, the one below the other; and, from present appearances, this expedition seems likely to strengthen the opinion.

When so large a number as from three hundred to five hundred men, in addition to the ship’s company, make a passage in the same vessel, they cannot but be crowded; and if the weather should prove bad, it will be impossible to have the lower deck kept so clean, and well ventilated, as will be requisite: hence, from many of the soldiers becoming sick; from their taking food in their sleeping births; and crowding themselves with knapsacks, blankets, and other baggage; and from multitudes breathing together, in a close and confined place, the air must, very quickly, be rendered unwholesome, and disease will, necessarily, be generated. Where there are two decks it is also more difficult to keep the men sufficiently exposed to the open atmosphere, as the idle and disobedient can more easily conceal themselves, and remain below, throughout the day.

The difference, in point of health, is peculiarly striking between the troops conveyed in transports from England, and the slaves brought in the Guinea ships from Africa. Perhaps, from the present mode of conducting the slave-ships, some useful hints might be derived, for the management of transports. The negroes are much more crowded than the soldiers, yet far more healthy. The cause of this, I much suspect will be found in the difference of treatment and accommodation. According to the present method of proceeding with the blacks, a Guinea ship would carry, with less danger of disease being generated among them, a cargo more than thrice as numerous as a transport would carry of soldiers.

I took occasion to remark in a former letter that the nakedness of the slaves was their best security against sickness, but, in addition to their being without clothes, they are compelled to remain constantly upon deck in the daytime; and are encouraged to exercise and amusement: their sleeping-places are completely washed out as soon as they quit them; and no species of baggage, or clothing; not a bundle, nor any article of bedding; not even a blanket, or a sheet, nor any kind of thing that can create filth, or collect impurities is admitted. Ventilation and washing are strictly enjoined, and the slaves are reduced, or compelled to observe cleanliness of person: together with these means, perhaps their simple diet of vegetables and water may greatly contribute, by diminishing the predisposition, and lessening the susceptibility of disease.

Hence it would seem that cleanliness, exercise, cheerfulness, a simple diet, and free exposure to the atmosphere are the great preventives of illness; and that by a strict observance of these means the negroes make the voyage, from Africa to the West Indies, without engendering infectious maladies, although infinitely more crowded, than troops on board the most confined transport.

Many causes conspire to prevent these grand objects from being equally attained by the soldiers; but it is a desideratum, even, to approach them. If I were to enter into a detail of all that might be offered upon this very important subject, instead of a letter I should write a volume. The difference of climate, of habit, of education, and of diet would all require to be taken into the discussion; but it were foreign to our present purpose to engage in such an extensive inquiry. I may content myself, therefore, with adding that, both in regard to transports, and barracks, the service would reap the most essential benefit, if the rules, which might be prescribed by its medical officers, were strictly followed; and policy, no less than humanity seems to demand it.

I must not forget to tell you, that the 23d instant was the hottest day we have felt, since our arrival between the tropics. In the morning the thermometer stood at 73°, and the weather was pleasantly cool, but it afterwards grew very close, and the little air that was stirring, coming from the south, we felt the temperature much increased, and every one complained of excessive heat. We were on shore during the forenoon, but having left our thermometers in the ship, had not the opportunity of observing the degree of heat, either in the town, or the bay: from our feelings, compared with the preceding days, we judge it to have been at least 86.

Although it was unusually hot and oppressive in Bridge-town, we perceived a great difference, in the more elevated part of the country. We dined at Dr. Hinde’s, some miles from the town, and did not there feel the heat unpleasant. Thirteen persons sat down to table, and I remarked that not one of the party had occasion to use his handkerchief, in a way that might have shocked the delicacy of a Chesterfield.

LETTER XXXI.

Barbadoes, March 30.

I fear you will be tired of reading tales of disappointment and uncertainty, which, as I before observed, would seem to know no end. On the morning of the 28th inst. we saw an ensign hoisted at the fort, and heard three guns fired; which constitute the signal of alarm implying a strange fleet to be in sight. It was, immediately, concluded that it was the Cork convoy, and its arrival was readily explained, by supposing it to have put to sea again, quickly after its return to harbour, and to have availed itself of the favorable wind which had already brought to us so many single vessels of that division. Dr. Cleghorn and myself happened to be on our way to the hospital, and on reaching St. Anne’s Hill we had a most splendid view of about eighty ships sailing smoothly below us, spreading their white canvass along the coast of the island, as they proceeded towards the bay. Our expectations now seemed confirmed. It must be the Cork fleet: and we felt assured of a speedy departure for St. Domingo! But our measure of vexation was not yet filled; for it proved to be only a fleet of merchantmen!

It would seem that the very elements had been set in hostile array, exclusively, against the expedition, and that it only required the sailing of the convoys to provoke the wrath of the winds, and the ocean. Amidst all the vexatious delays, that continue to occur, it is mortifying to discover that not one of the troop-ships has made the passage with this fortunate fleet of traders, which sailed from Spithead on the 27th of February, and reached Barbadoes early on the 28th of March.

After breakfast we went on shore to make our marketings and to learn the additional news brought by the fleet, which had now come to anchor. The streets of Bridge-town were crowded, and the place so over-run with strangers, that not a fish, nor a joint of meat was to be had: and a single chicken was all we could procure.

Barbadoes is the best supplied of all our colonies to windward of Jamaica. The island abounds with provisions and stock; but from the late multiplied arrivals, and from a numerous fleet being so long detained in the bay, the demand has been so great that a degree of scarcity, or, at least, that mark of it, an increased and extravagant price, begins to prevail.

Single ships of the Cork division still continue to join us; and among them we now find the George and Bridget with hospital stores, having our comrade Henderson on board. The George and Bridget, as I before remarked to you, is a large North country ship, of vast bulk, very unwieldy, and manifestly a slow sailer.

Our lost assistant, poor Mac—, who was left behind in consequence of going to Portsmouth in search of our cow, is also among the unexpected passengers on board this vessel. The narrative of his adventures, with and without the cow, has diverted us exceedingly. He is a little fat, sturdy man, of short, punch-like figure, between thirty and forty years of age, with a vast deal of good humour and willing activity about him—bustling, well-intending, and officiously desirous to be useful. He is confident, and presumptuous, yet possesses a degree of personal timidity bordering upon superstition. Abruptly familiar with those he seeks, he grows importunate, and attaches himself even to annoyance; being one of those people who have more of freedom than good manners, are perfect masters in ease, and as perfectly ignorant in politeness. He is of that class which possesses more of willingness, than judgment—more of haste, than order; one of those who engage with bold confidence, in whatever presents itself, without looking to the event, or observing any thing of method in the execution; who are ever ready to plunge into difficulties, without a thought how to subdue them.

The same sanguine feelings which lead him into troubles, tend to support him through them. Not being of a disposition to brood over his distresses, he is seldom the subject of dismay, or the victim of sombre reflection. Involved in one dilemma, he commonly escapes from it by rushing headlong into a greater, and often blunders on to his object, overcoming every impediment by forcing circumstances through all hazards to the end proposed; then, forgetful of the new difficulties which he has created, piques himself upon the merit of having accomplished his design!

It being an essential comfort to have plenty of milk on the passage, we had purchased a cow to take on board, but owing to some neglect, on shore, our valued animal had not reached the Lord Sheffield at the time the signal was made for sailing. We applied to the captain to know how we could proceed with the greatest probability of procuring her; who, telling us that it was not an object for which he could delay the ship, observed that the only chance of having our milk was by sending off some person, instantly, to Portsmouth, who would bring the cow, without a moment’s loss of time. Mac—, hearing this, immediately volunteered his services. A boat, returning to the shore, was accordingly hailed, and away hurried Mac— for the cow; not once dreaming of the possibility of failure, or that there could be any risk of his being left behind. In the same unthinking haste in which he left the ship did he bustle on when he reached the town; and from a thoughtless blundering in every step of his proceeding, he was defeated in all his attempts to return on board. First he neglected to secure a boat at the time he went on shore—next he forgot the address of the person from whom the cow was purchased—afterwards he lost time in cavilling with the man for not sending her off according to his engagement—then he delayed by sitting down to take refreshment; and when at last the poor animal was led to the water’s edge, it proved that every boat was absent, and Mac— was compelled to wait in great anxiety for the return of one from Spithead. He now began to discover that he had proceeded rashly, and without calculating the means of success; but he unjustly cursed his fortune, and abused the quiet, unconscious cow.

Thus it ever is with the improvident,—whether regarding his time, his purse, or his pursuits. The errors of _imprudence_ he never fails to attribute to _misfortune_, and he unfairly accuses the fates with what is only the result of his own folly or neglect. When a lugger arrived it was too late to overtake the fleet; but he impulsively jumped into it, insisting on making a trial, and after remaining at sea for a considerable time, was obliged to return to Portsmouth, both himself and the cow having lost their passage.

Now he hastily determined to go to the Isle of Wight, and try from thence to get on board the Lord Sheffield; and after failing in this, he hurried to Plymouth, idly fancying that he might succeed from thence. Here he was alike defeated. He then travelled to Milford Haven and embarked for Ireland, and happened to arrive at Cove in time for the Cork convoy, with which he found the George and Bridget, and, knowing that Dr. Henderson and others of the hospital staff were on board, he applied to the captain for a passage, relating his adventures, with and without the cow, as his passport.

From the frankness of his manners, and the willingness he expressed to put up with all the inconveniences which might present themselves, as well as from his companionable familiarity, the master of the vessel became interested in his behalf, and soon adopted him as his principal associate.

The ship met with an accident at sea, but afterwards made a favorable passage, and Mac— is arrived in safety at Barbadoes; where he relates with great delight all his perils by sea, and his troubles on shore[6].

LETTER XXXII.

Barbadoes, April 1, 1796.