Journal of an African Cruiser / Comprising Sketches of the Canaries, the Cape De Verds, Liberia, Madeira, Sierra Leone, and Other Places of Interest on the West Coast of Africa

CHAPTER XVII.

Dutch Settlement at El Mina—Appearance of the Town—Cape Coast Castle—Burial-place of L. E. L.—An English Dinner—Festivity on Ship-board—British, Dutch, and Danish Accra—Native Wives of Europeans—A Royal Princess—An Armadillo—Sail for St. Thomas—Aspect of the Island.

April 29.—At 10 A.M., anchored off the Dutch settlement of El Mina. The Governor's lieutenant boarded us in a large canoe, paddled by about a score of blacks. A salute was fired by our ship, and returned from the castle with a degree of splendor quite unexpected; for a portion of the native town, situated beneath the castle-walls, was set on fire by the wad of a cannon, and twenty or thirty houses burnt to the ground. On landing, we received a message, intimating that the Governor would be glad to see us, and consequently called upon him. He is a man of about thirty, who came out in 1832, as a clerk, and has risen to be Governor, with the military rank of lieutenant-colonel. All the civil officers have military titles, and wear the corresponding uniforms, for effect upon the natives; but the Dutch evince their shrewdness by placing practical men of business, rather than soldiers, at the head of their colonial establishments. The only officer of the regular army is a lieutenant, commanding the guard, of one hundred men.

El Mina—the Mine—was built in 1482, or thereabouts, by the Portuguese, whose early navigators have left tokens of their enterprise all along this coast; although the achievements of those adventurous men do but illustrate the nation's present supineness and decay. The settlement was taken by the Dutch about a century after its foundation. The main fortress is extensive, mounting ninety guns, and is capable of withstanding the assault of a large force of regular troops. On an eminence, above the town, is a second fort, apparently strong and in good repair; and two small batteries are placed in commanding situations.

The houses in the town are built of stone, and thatched. The streets are narrow, crooked, and dirty, imparting to the place the air of intricate bewilderment of some of the old European cities. Much of the trade is done in the streets, and entirely by women, who sit with their merchandize on the ground before them, and their gold-scales in their laps, waiting for customers. It would perhaps add to our manliness of character, if at least the minor departments of traffic were resigned to the weaker sex, among ourselves. Crossing a small river, we came to another, and by far the best section, of the town. There are long, wide streets, two of which, meeting at an obtuse angle, form together an extent of nearly a mile. A double row of trees throw their shade over the central walk of this Alameda. At intervals are seated groups of women-traders. The wares of some are deposited upon the ground, while pieces of cloth are displayed to advantage upon lines, stretching from tree to tree.

Before returning on board, we bespoke rings and chains of a native goldsmith. The fashions of Africa are less evanescent than those of Europe; and we may expect to see such ornaments as glittered on the bosom of the Queen of Sheba.

May 2.—Sailed for Cape Coast Castle with the evening breeze.

3.—At Cape Coast Castle.

The landing is effected in large canoes, which convey passengers close to the rocks, safely and without being drenched, although the surf dashes fifty feet in height. There is a peculiar enjoyment in being raised, by an irresistible power beneath you, upon the tops of the high rollers, and then dropped into the profound hollow of the waves, as if to visit the bottom of the ocean, at whatever depth it might be. We landed at the castle-gate, and were ushered into the castle itself, where the commander of the troops received us in his apartment.

I took the first opportunity to steal away, to look at the burial-place of L.E.L., who died here, after a residence of only two months, and within a year after becoming the wife of Governor McLean. A small, white marble tablet (inserted among the massive grey stones of the castle-wall, where it faces the area of the fort) bears the following inscription:—

The first thought that struck me was the inappropriateness of the spot for a grave, and especially for the grave of a woman, and, most of all, a woman of poetic temperament. In the open area of the fort, at some distance from the castle-wall, the stone pavement had been removed in several spots, and replaced with plain tiles. Here lie buried some of the many British officers who have fallen victims to the deadly atmosphere of this region; and among them rests L.E.L. Her grave is distinguishable by the ten red tiles which cover it. Daily, the tropic sunshine blazes down upon the spot. Daily, at the hour of parade, the peal of military music resounds above her head, and the garrison marches and counter-marches through the area of the fortress, nor shuns to tread upon the ten red tiles, any more than upon the insensible stones of the pavement. It may be well for the fallen commander to be buried at his post, and sleep where the reveille and roll-call may be heard, and the tramp of his fellow-soldiers echo and re-echo over him. All this is in unison with his profession; the drum and trumpet are his perpetual requiem; the soldier's honorable tread leaves no indignity upon the dead warrior's dust. But who has a right to trample on a woman's breast? And what had L.E.L. to do with warlike parade? And wherefore was she buried beneath this scorching pavement, and not in the retired shadow of a garden, where seldom any footstep would come stealing through the grass, and pause before her tablet? There, her heart, while in one sense it decayed, would burst forth afresh from the sod in a profusion of spontaneous flowers, such as her living fancy lavished throughout the world. But now, no verdure nor blossom will ever grow upon her grave.

If a man may ever indulge in sentiment, it is over the ashes of a woman whose poetry touched him in his early youth, while he yet cared anything about either sentiment or poetry. Thus much, the reader will pardon. In reference to Mrs. McLean, it may be added, that, subsequently to her unhappy death, different rumors were afloat as to its cause, some of them cruel to her own memory, others to the conduct of her husband. All these reports appear to have been equally and entirely unfounded. It is well established here, that her death was accidental.

We dined at the castle to-day, and met the officers of a new English brig, the Sea-Lark, among whom I was happy to recognize Lieutenant B——, an acquaintance at Mahon, and a messmate of my friend C——. All these officers are gallant fellows; and the commencement of our acquaintance promises to place them and ourselves on the most cordial terms. The dinner, like other English dinners, was rather noisy, but rendered highly agreeable by the perfect good feeling that prevailed. At eight in the evening, we returned on board, though strongly urged to sleep on shore by the Governor and all our other friends. Such hospitality, though unquestionably sincere, and kindly meant, it was far better to decline than accept; for it was much the same as if Death, in the hearty tone of good-fellowship, had pressed us to quaff another cup and spend the night under his roof. Had we complied, it would probably have cost the lives of more than one of us. Our captain took wisdom by the sad experience of the English brig, which had lost her purser and master by just such a festivity, prolonged to a late hour, and finished by the officers passing the night on shore. The fever of the climate punished their imprudence.

All vessels, except those of our own navy, allow their officers to sleep on shore. They expect to be taken sick, but hope that the first attack of fever will season them. Possibly, this is as wise a course as the British officers could adopt; for, unlike ourselves, they are compelled by duty to trust themselves in pestiferous situations, particularly in the ascent of rivers, where there is scarcely a chance of escaping the deadly influence of the atmosphere. They therefore confront the danger at once, and either fall beneath it, or triumph over it.

4.—Governor McLean, and all the officers of the castle and brig, dined on board. The table was laid on the quarter-deck, and was the scene of much mirth and friendly sentiment. In the evening, the theatre was open, with highly respectable performances; after which came a supper; and the guests took their leave at midnight, apparently well-pleased.

6.—We sailed yesterday from Cape Coast Castle, and anchored to-day at Accra, abreast of the British and Dutch forts.

7.—Early this morning, we were surrounded with canoes, filled with articles for sale. The most remarkable were black monkey-skins. There are seven vessels at anchor here, including our own, and an English war-steamer. Three of the seven, a barque, brig, and schooner, are from the United States. Landing in a canoe, we were met on the beach by the Governor and some of his gentlemen, and escorted to the castle. Thence we went to the residence of Mr. Bannerman. He is the great man of Accra, wealthy, liberally educated in England, and a gentleman, although with a deep tinge of African blood in his cheeks. But when native blood is associated with gentlemanly characteristics and liberal acquirements, it becomes, instead of a stigma of dishonor, an additional title to the respect of the world; since it implies that many obstacles have been overcome, in order to place the man where we find him. This, however, is a view not often taken by those who labor under the misfortune (for such it is, if they so consider it) of having African blood in their veins.

8.—A missionary, on his way to the Gaboon, and two American merchant-captains, Hunt and Dayley, dined with us in the ward-room. The latter are respectable men. The missionary, Mr. Burchell, seems much depressed. He has had the fever at Cape Palmas, the effects of which still linger in his constitution; while his companion, the Rev. Mr. Campbell, although but recently from America, has already finished his earthly labors, and gone to his reward. We left them only a month ago at Cape Palmas, in perfect health.

9.—My impressions of Accra are more favorable than of any other place which I have yet seen in Africa. British and Dutch Accra are contiguous. The forts of the two nations are within a mile of each other, situated on ground which, at a little distance, appears not unlike the "bluffs" on our western rivers; level upon the summit, with a precipitous descent, as if the land had "caved in" from the action of the water. The country round is level, and nearly free from woods as far as the rise of the hills, some ten miles distant. About three miles to the eastward, Danish Accra shows its neat town and well-kept fortress. I did not visit the place, but learn that it is fully equal to its neighbors. Thus, within a circuit of three or four miles, the traveller may perform no inconsiderable portion of the grand tour, visiting the territory of three different countries of Europe, and observing their military and civil institutions, their modes of business, their national characteristics, and all assimilated by a general modification, resulting from the climate and position in which they are placed. There seems to be an exchange of courtesy and social kindness among the three settlements. Seven or eight Europeans reside in the different forts; so that, together with the captains of merchant-vessels in the roads, there are tolerable resources of society.

All the Europeans have native wives, who dress in a modest, but peculiar style, of which the lady of Mr. Bannerman may give an example. She wore a close-fitting muslin chemisette, buttoned to the throat with gold buttons, a black silk tunic extending to the thigh, a colored cotton cloth, fastened round the waist and falling as low as the ankles, black silk stockings and prunella shoes. This lady is jet black, of pleasing countenance, and is a princess of royal blood. In the last great battle between the Europeans on the coast and the powerful King of Ashantee (the same who defeated and slew Sir Charles McCarthy), the native army was put to total rout by the aid of Congreve rockets. The king's camp, with most of his women, fell into the hands of the victors. Three of his daughters were appropriated by the English merchants, here and at Cape Coast, and became their faithful and probably happy wives. One of the three fell to the lot of Mr. Bannerman, and is the lady whom I have described. These women are entrusted with all the property of their husbands, and are sometimes left for months in sole charge, while the merchants visit England. The acting governor of the British fort, Mr. Topp, departs for that country to-morrow, leaving his native wife at the head of affairs.

Mr. Bannerman is of Scottish blood by paternal descent, but African by the mother's side, and English by education, and is a gentleman in manner and feeling. He is the principal merchant here, and transacts a large business with the natives, who come from two or three hundred miles in the interior, and constantly crowd his yard. There they sit, in almost perfect silence, receiving their goods, and making payment in gold-dust and ivory. Towards us Mr. Bannerman showed himself most hospitable, yet in a perfectly unostentatious manner.

Accra is the land of plenty in Africa. Beef, mutton, turkeys and chickens abound; and its supply of European necessaries and luxuries is unequalled.

10.—We got under way, yesterday, for the "Islands," a term well understood to mean those of St. Thomas and Prince's. Mr. Bushnell (one of the two missionaries who proposed to take passage with us from Cape Palmas, a month since) is now on board as a passenger to Prince's Island. The other, Mr. Campbell, is dead. He was of a wealthy and influential family in Kentucky, and is said to have been a young man of extraordinary talent and promise.

Yesterday we fired seventeen minute-guns, in obedience to an order from the Navy-Department for the melancholy death of its chief, by the explosion of the Princeton's gun. At twelve o'clock to-day, we fired thirteen minute guns, as a tribute of respect to the memory of Commodore Kennon, who fell a victim to the same disastrous accident. Alone on the waters, months after the event, and five thousand miles from the scene of his fate, we gave a sailor's requiem to a brave and accomplished officer.

11.—Calm and sunny. Oh, how sunny!—and, alas, how calm!

At Accra, I received a present of an armadillo, or ant-eater, who is certainly a wonderful animal, and well worth studying, in the tedium of a calm between the tropics. The body proper is but about nine inches, but, when stretched at length, he covers an extent of two and a half feet, from head to tail, and is wholly fortified with an impenetrable armor of bony scales. On any occasion of alarm, it is his custom to thrust his long nose between his hind-legs and roll his body and tail compactly together, so as to appear like the half of a ball, presenting no vulnerable part to an enemy. In this condition he affords an excellent example of a self-involved philosopher, defending himself from the annoyance of the world by a stoical crustiness, and seeking all his enjoyment within his own centre. His muscular strength being great, and especially that of his fore-legs, it is very difficult to unroll him. An attempt being made to force his coil, he sticks his fore-claws into the scales of his head, and holds on with a death-like grip. At night, however, or when all is quiet, he vouchsafes to unbend himself, and waddles awkwardly about on his short legs, in pursuit of cockroaches, weevils and spiders. [Footnote: The above-described ant-eater is properly the long-tailed Manis, being an African species of the Pangolin. His scaly armor will turn a musket-ball. This animal, with a few other natural and artificial curiosities from Africa, has been deposited in the National collection, attached to the Patent Office at Washington.] 18.—After many days of calm or light winds, a stiff and fair breeze, for twenty-four hours past, has been driving us rapidly on our course. We hope to see St. Thomas to-morrow.

19.—Land was discovered at daylight; but the wind had again failed us. It being Sunday, divine service was performed, and well performed, by Mr. Bushnell. He has gained the respect and regard of all on board, by his amiable, guileless disposition, and unassuming piety.

At noon the breeze freshened, and brought us within ten miles of the island, by the close of day. St. Thomas is high, and possesses strong features. One landmark is so singular as to strike every beholder most forcibly. It is a rock, apparently not less than five hundred feet high, and shaped like a light-house, towering into the air, about a third of the distance from the southern extremity of the island. We are now within a few miles of the equator; and sundry jokes, not unfamiliar to the nautical Joe Miller, are passing through the ship, touching the appearance of "the line."

20.—A heavy tornado struck us last night. We were prepared for it, however, with nothing on the ship but the topsail, clewed down, and the fore-topmast-staysail. The last mentioned sail blew away, and the ship lay over with her guns in the water. In five minutes, nevertheless, we were going before the wind and away from shore.

The appearance of the island is pleasant. A high volcanic peak, hills covered with wood, and spots of ground reminding us of the lawns or pasture-lands of our own country. On these tracts not a tree or a bush is visible for acres together; but whether the soil was left naked by nature, or rendered so by cultivation, is yet to be ascertained. A ruined chapel on the top of a hill, a large mansion, apparently unoccupied, on the shore, and a few huts among the cocoa-trees, are the only evidences that men have ever been here. Several canoes have now come off to us, bringing fruit and shells.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Excursion to St. Anne de Chaves—Mode of drying Coffee—Black Priests—Madame Domingo's Hotel—Catering for the Mess—Man swallowed by a Shark—Letters from Home—Fashionable Equipage—Arrival at the Gaboon—King Glass and Louis Philippe—Mr. Griswold—Mr. and Mrs. Wilson—Character of the Gaboon People—Symptoms of Illness.

May 22.—I have just returned from an excursion to St. Anne de Chaves, the capital of St. Thomas. Leaving the ship, yesterday, at 9 A.M., we landed, but did not find the horses which had been ordered from the city. Deeming it unadvisable to wait, three of the party started on foot, and two in the "gig" (not the land-vehicle of that name), which was to proceed on the same destination. After walking three or four miles along the beach, we met two of the six horses expected. These served to mount a pair of us, while the third, with the guide and boys, proceeded on foot; it being arranged that we should travel in the old-fashioned mode of "ride and tie." Most of the distance was across open land, without a tree or shrub, but overgrown with coarse, high grass. The whole appearance was that of a western prairie, but without the grandeur of its extent, or the flowers that attract the traveller, when wearied with the immensity of prospect. The soil, like that of the cocoa-nut groves, is a black, deep, fertile loam.

In two hours, we arrived at St. Anne de Chaves. The town is spread out upon the circular shore of the bay, nearly half a mile in extent, and is defended by a stone fort, situated on the extreme point of the cape. There are three or four hundred houses, which, with few exceptions, are small, and constructed of wood. A long stone building is appropriated as the residence of the governor, and contains the public offices. The only remarkable edifices besides, are a large wooden church, looking very like a barn, and a smaller one of stone. The streets are unpaved, but kept remarkably clean, and not without an especial reason. The great, and almost only, article of commerce is coffee, which is kept in the houses, and dried daily in the streets. As soon as the sun is up, therefore, servants sweep the streets, as carefully as if it were a parlor-floor, and bring out large quantities of coffee, which they spread upon the ground to dry. At night, it is carried in. More than half the street, at the proper season, is covered with coffee yet in the husk. The exports of this article amount annually to about a million of pounds, producing from seventy to eighty thousand dollars. The only whites residing on the island, with one exception, are about sixty Portuguese; the number of colored inhabitants is estimated at fifteen thousand.

Black priests are plenty in the streets, walking about in bombazine robes, with the crisp hair shaven from their crowns. The Jesuits invariably followed hard upon the heels of the early Portuguese adventurers, in their African discoveries; but I am not aware that their efforts to Catholicise the natives have anywhere produced such permanent results, as in this island. To be sure, the religion of the inhabitants seems to amount to little more than the practice of a few external rites; for they have both the appearance and character of dishonesty and treachery, and are said to be addicted to all sorts of vice. So far as the black priests possess any influence, however, it is believed to be used conscientiously, and with excellent effect; nor, though provoked to smile at these queer specimens of the cloth, could I indulge the impulse without being self-convicted of narrowness and illiberally. St. Augustine, and other Fathers of the church, if I have heard aright, were of the same sable hue as the priests of St. Anne de Chaves.

The currency of the island is wretched. Coppers are the sole coin in use, in all domestic transactions, and pass at ten times their intrinsic value. They are said to be introduced mainly by the American merchantmen, who do most of the trade with the island.

The foreign business is chiefly transacted by Mr. Lippitt, a Hamburgh merchant, at whose house we were hospitably received. He set his best fare before us; and some of the party not only ate at his table, but slept beneath his roof. The others took lodgings at the house of Madam Domingo, a fat black lady, whose first husband, a merchant of considerable business, had left her a large mansion, several slaves, some children, and other desirable property. A young, dandy-looking negro succeeded to the vacant place in her house and heart, and now does the honors of the establishment. The largest room had a singular aspect of familiarity to our eyes; its walls being adorned with prints of American origin, among which were portraits of all the Presidents of the United States, previous to General Harrison. These, perhaps, were the gift of some merchant-captain to his hospitable landlady; or, more probably, they had been hung up in compliment to the national sensibilities of Madam Domingo's most frequent guests. Tawdry mirrors and chandeliers completed the decoration of the apartment. A supper of coffee and hard-boiled eggs, beds harder than the eggs, and a bill equally difficult of digestion, comprise all that is further to be said of the fashionable hotel of St. Anne de Chaves. After a good breakfast with our Hamburgh friend, we all embarked in the gig, and, spreading our canvass to the breeze, reached the ship in an hour and ten minutes.

23.—Ashore with the caterer of the mess, marketing for sea-stores; a difficult task among a set of people who, though poor, care little about making a profit by selling what they have. Many of them would not take money, requiring in payment some article of clothing, especially shirts, or, as the next grand desideratum, trowsers. By careful research among the small plantations we were able to pick up a few goats, pigs, and fowls, and came off with materials to keep the mess in good humor for at least ten days. None but sea-faring men can appreciate the great truth, that amiability is an affair of the stomach, and that the disposition depends upon the dinner.

We found the soil very fertile. Groves of cocoa-nuts cover many acres together. Beneath the shade, coffee trees were in full bearing; and bananas, plantains, and corn, flourished luxuriantly. The people are all blacks, speak Portuguese, and—a circumstance that affords the voyager an agreeable variety, after seeing so much nakedness—wear clothes. Their habitations are scattered among the trees. It is usual to have one house for rainy weather, for sleeping, and for storage, and another as a kitchen, and for occupation during the day. The first is close, the other has merely corner-posts, supporting a roof sufficiently light to make a shade.

Part of the day was spent in picking up shells upon the shore. Occasionally, I unhoused a "soldier-crab," who had taken up free quarters in some unoccupied cone, and became so delighted with its shelter as never to move without dragging it at his heels along the sand.

24.—6 P.M., a horrid accident has just occurred. As the gig was coming alongside, under sail, the tiller broke, and the coxswain who was steering, fell overboard. He was a good swimmer, and struck out for the ship, not thirty yards distant, while the boat fell off rapidly to the leeward. In less than half a minute, a monstrous shark rose to the surface, seized the poor fellow by the body, and carried him instantly under. Two hundred men were looking on, without the power to afford assistance. We beheld the water stained with crimson for many yards around—but the victim was seen no more! Once only, a few seconds after his disappearance, the monster rose again to the surface, displaying a length of well nigh twenty feet, and then his immense tail above the water, as if in triumph and derision. It was like something preternatural; and terribly powerful he must have been, to take under so easily, and swallow, in a moment, one of the largest and most athletic men in the ship. Poor Ned Martin!

25.—Again visited the town, where we found an American brig, the Vintage of Salem, Captain Frye. She is from the South Coast, homeward bound, with a cargo of gum copal. The Captain had some letters for the squadron, which were now eleven months old. My own gave an account of the President's visit to Boston, the Bunker Hill Celebration, and other events of that antediluvian date. Epistolary communication is, at the best, a kind of humbug. What was new and true, when written, has become trite and false, before it can be read. It assures of nothing—not even of the existence of the writer; for his hand may have grown cold, since the characters which it traced began their weary voyage in quest of us; and all of which we can be absolutely certain is, that many unexpected events have happened, and many expected ones have failed to happen, betwixt the sealing of the letter and the unfolding it again. Until the ocean be converted into an electric telegraph, through which intelligence will thrill in an instant, there can be no real communication between the sailor and his far-off friends. And yet, after all, how pleasant it is to write letters!—how much pleasanter to receive them! I acknowledged the receipt of these musty epistles, by the same vessel that conveyed them to me.

I have seen but one equipage in the capital of St. Thomas, but that was a sufficiently remarkable one; a small, three-wheeled vehicle, like a velocipede, with a phaeton-top to it. Drawn by two negroes, and pushed by three, it rolled briskly to the door of the church, and there deposited a plump and youthful dame, as black as ebony. From the deference shown her by the priests, I inferred that it was my good fortune to behold the leading belle of St. Anne de Chaves.

After dining with Mr. Lippitt, we returned to the boats, and got safely on shipboard before dark. My impressions of St. Thomas and its delightful climate are highly favorable. A visit to an island has generally more of interest and amusement than one to a spot on the continent, because the secluded position of the inhabitants imparts an originality and raciness to their modes of life.

27.—Got under way yesterday morning for the Gaboon. Today the wind has been favorable, and we are now at anchor for the night, off the mouth of the river, five miles from land.

28.—At 4 P.M., anchored within three miles of the missionary establishment. Mr. Bushnell took his leave, respected by us all, as a pious, unpretending, sensible, and amiable man.

29.—Ashore. We found our friends well, and glad to see us. They are comfortably situated in large houses, made of bamboos, and thatched with the bamboo-leaves sewed together. These present an airy, cool, and light appearance, highly suitable to a tropical region, and yet are impervious to rain.

We visited the house of King Glass, where several of the chiefs assembled to talk a palaver. They are apprehensive of difficulties with the French, and wish the English and Americans to interpose. According to their story, the commandant of a French fort, three miles distant, had attempted, a short time ago, to procure a cession of their territory. This they constantly refused, declaring their intention to keep the country open for trade with all nations, and allow exclusive advantages to none. After several trials, the commandant apparently relinquished his purpose. A French merchant-captain now appeared, who ingratiated himself into the favor of the simple King Glass, invited him to a supper, and made his majesty and the head-man drunk. While in this condition, he procured the signatures of the King and two or three chiefs to a paper, which he declared to be merely a declaration of friendship towards the French, but which proved to be a cession of certain rights of jurisdiction. Next morning, the French fired a salute of twenty-one guns in honor of the treaty between Louis Philippe and King Glass, and sent presents which the natives refused to receive. They now apprehend a forcible seizure of their territory by the French, and desire our interposition, as calculated to prevent such a national calamity. Our captain, however, declined to interfere, or to express any opinion in the premises, on the ground that it was not his province to judge of such matters abroad, unless the interests of Americans were involved.

The missionaries have perhaps some agency in this movement. They see the probability that the Catholic priests will follow them to the Gaboon, and subvert their influence with the natives.

31.—In the morning I visited Mr. Griswold's place, about two miles from Baracca, the residence of Mr. Wilson. The former establishment was commenced only eight months ago; and already there are two buildings finished, and two more nearly so, all of bamboo. The ground is more fertile than that occupied by Mr. Wilson, and has been brought thus seasonably into a good state of cultivation. Mr. Griswold is a Vermonter, a practical farmer, and an energetic man, and doubtless turns his agricultural experience to good account, great as is the difference between the bleak hills of New England, and this equatorial region. His lady, an interesting woman, is just recovering from fever.

After an agreeable visit, we returned to the ship, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Griswold, and there found Mr. Wilson and lady, and Mr. James and his daughter. They all dined and spent the day on board. Mr. Wilson is well known in America by reputation, and is one of the most able and judicious among the three hundred missionaries, whom the American Board sends forth throughout the world. Here at Gaboon, he preaches to the natives in their own language, which he represents as being very soft, and easy of acquirement. The people frequent divine services with great regularity, and are at least attentive listeners, if not edified by what they hear. Mrs. Wilson is a lady of remarkable zeal and energy. Reared in luxury, in a Southern city, she liberated her slaves, gave up a handsome fortune to the uses of missions, and devoted herself to the same great cause, in that region of the earth where her faith and fortitude were likely to be most severely tried. It is now six years since she came to Africa; and she has never faltered for a moment. Having had the good fortune, on a former cruise, to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Wilson, at Cape Palmas, I was happy to renew it here. I have seldom met with a person so well fitted to adorn society, and never with one in whose high motives of action and genuine piety I had more confidence.

The natives at the Gaboon, to whom these excellent people are sacrificing themselves, are said to present more favorable points of character than those in most other parts of Africa. They are mild in their manners, friendly to Europeans and Americans, and disposed to imitate them in dress and customs. They own many slaves among themselves, but treat them with singular gentleness, and never sell them to foreigners. They are very indolent, and make no adequate improvement of their advantages for agriculture and trade. Their country is excellent for grazing, and the cattle of the best kind; but they take so little forethought as to sell even the last cow, should a purchaser offer. Consequently, there are hardly more than thirty cattle left in a tract of country capable, in its present state, of sustaining a thousand.

King Glass is an old man, much inclined to drink, yet more regular than any of his subjects in attendance at church. Toko, a headman, is very shrewd and intelligent, and highly spoken of by Mr. Wilson, in reference to his moral qualities. Will Glass, nephew to the King, is blessed with a couple of dozen wives, and seldom moves without a train of five or six of them in attendance. He paid a visit to our ship in a full-dress English uniform, said to have cost three hundred dollars. On the other side of the river lives King Will, a great man, and with the reputation of a polished gentleman. The slave-trade is carried on in this King's dominions; and, while I write, a Spanish slaver lies at anchor off his town, waiting for her human cargo.

June 1.—Got under way, and went down the river about three miles, when, the wind failing, we anchored. At 3 P.M., we started again, and stood out to sea. Mr. Wilson accompanied us to the mouth of the river, and there left us, bearing back our hearty good wishes for his personal prosperity and that of the mission.

2.—At 12, meridian, we have made the run to the island of St. Thomas, and are now about fifteen miles to the northward of it.

3.—The wind is still sufficiently fresh and fair to enable us to make seven knots westing; the great desideratum. Four months we have been running away from our letters; and now we go to meet them. Blow, breezes, blow, and waft us swiftly onward!

4.—A continuance of favorable winds. I am not well to-day. Slight headache, and heaviness of feeling—no great matter—but these are ominous symptoms, on the coast of Africa.

5.—One year since we left America; a year not without incident and interest. We are still on the first parallel of north latitude, and going nine. I am under the surgeon's hands, apprehending a fever, but hoping to throw it off.

6.—We have made two hundred and twenty miles within the last twenty-four hours; and still the breeze does not slacken. Much better in health. Bless the man who first invented Doctors!

CHAPTER XIX.

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."