LETTER XIV.
After all our perils and dangers we are, again, safe at anchor, with terra firma in view! What a delightful element is the solid earth! During nine long weeks have we been wandering, upon the fickle waters, without obtaining even the most distant sight of land: but of this enough! Let me not recal, to your mind, scenes that we are endeavouring to forget. Throughout the last fortnight the tumults of a boisterous ocean have been assuaged. For two or three days, after writing my last notes, we were nearly becalmed, and the foaming Atlantic became smooth and tranquil as the fish-pond of a pleasure-ground. This placid interval was occupied in making preparations for fair sailing; the top-gallant masts were got up—the royals and steering sails made ready—fishing lines were thrown into the still sea—and an awning prepared for the quarter-deck; all of which imply steady breezes, warm regions, and pleasant sailing. On the 25th of January we were in latitude 27° 49′, the thermometer at 69°. The morning was mild; the sea still and smooth, as a lake: all nature seemed hushed in silence, and no wind could be felt. We rose early, and enjoyed a steady walk on the, now, quiet deck. The sun, protruding from the bosom of a tranquil ocean, softly stole above the horizon, swelled into globular form, mildly assumed refulgent brightness, and spread his cheering rays around. From excess of motion we had lapsed into perfect rest. We hailed the change with admiration; yet wished enough of wind to carry us on our voyage. The timoneer left the helm; and the ship remained immoveable upon the water. Two strange vessels were observed to be in sight—a brig and a schooner. The former was directly in our wake. Viewing this, amidst the universal stillness which prevailed, we remarked, with surprise, that she was moving, towards us, with full sails. At this moment the sky darkened; the thermometer fell to 64; a gentle rippling spread over the still surface of the water; and, almost imperceptibly, brought us——a favorable breeze! It was from the north-east; and so soft and steady, that scarcely did we feel the vessel in motion, before we were advancing at the rate of five knots an hour! What we had so long and anxiously sought, was now arrived, and we most cordially welcomed——the trade-wind! The sailors announced it in loud greetings: need I say that we partook in their liveliest joy? Never was a happier moment! All sense of our long sufferings vanished, and we were quite in raptures on this glad event. Indeed we had cause to think ourselves fortunate on being received by the favoring Trades in their very earliest latitude. This was a most grateful period of our passage, and, together with the weather we have since experienced, has, in some degree, compensated former evils. The temperature grew cooler than it had been during the few days of calm. The breeze freshened, and all hands were busily occupied in setting every possible sail, to obtain the full benefit of this great and constant trader’s friend. Quickly new canvass stretched from every point of the masts and yards, and the ship, winged with five additional sails, widely spread her expanded pinions to catch the breeze. What a change! transported, at once, from the perils of severe tempest, to the finest, smoothest sailing! Sickness, and all other uneasy feelings were banished; we exercised, freely, upon the deck; and advanced on our passage, almost without perceiving the vessel move! So rapid, indeed, was our progress, that the ship seemed to feel no resistance, in her easy course through the water!
As soon as we entered the trades, our ports and scuttles were beat open, and we had a free circulation of air, through the cabin, night and day. The windows were likewise opened; and, as we sailed before the wind, the Venetian blinds admitted the breeze, whilst they excluded the rays of the sun. By these means we were kept pleasantly cool, below; and when upon deck we were protected by a canvass awning, under which we had a shaded walk, ventilated by a free current of air. Having several bathing tubs on board, we had, likewise, the comfort, the luxury I might say, of plunging into sea-water every morning; and, in order not to meet these burning regions, with all the rigid fibre, and strong vascular action of Europe, I have adopted the plan of using a very abstemious diet, and have submitted to a short preparatory course of medicine. My comrades smile at the precaution, but, although doctors may disagree, I shall hope, on some future day, to exhibit, to you, the good effects of this early discipline.
Many days previous to our arrival in Carlisle Bay, the increase of temperature had brought out upon our skins that troublesome eruption called prickly heat. Our bodies were covered with it, and the irritation and itching it occasioned were intolerable. Our companion, Dr. Cleghorn, being an early sufferer from it, demanded of those who had been accustomed to the West Indies, how long his skin was to be thus tormented? So long, good doctor, as you remain in health, was the reply! Upon which, with additional rubbing and scratching, the doctor jocosely, although somewhat impatiently exclaimed, in the accent of his country, “Faith, captain, and would you carry us into never-ceasing torment? ’Bout ship, and tack for England immediately.”
On the morning of the 10th instant the boatswain descried the highest points of Barbadoes, when land! land! was instantly echoed throughout the ship, to the great joy of all on board; and to the boatswain’s profit, who, being the first to sound the glad tidings, became entitled to the customary fee of a bottle of rum. It required the eye of a sailor to distinguish the all-delighting terra firma, amidst the clouds: the passengers looked, and looked in vain! a nearer approach of several leagues, was necessary, to render it visible to the eye of a landsman, and when we, at length, discerned it, the earth appeared, only, as the more fixed of the clouds, forming a dark streak a little above the horizon. This streak became, gradually, more and more distinct, till, breaking as we advanced, it assumed the rugged form of mountains; and, at length, the appearance of land. Soon we discovered it to be the northern point of the island of Barbadoes: but Carlisle Bay is to the south: we had, therefore, to coast round nearly half the extent of the island, before we could reach the harbour. This delay afforded us a good opportunity of viewing the country. We stood near in, and could observe, distinctly, the objects on shore. I took my seat upon deck, and with an anxious eye, aided by the telescope, minutely, examined every thing we passed. The mind, ever active, generally forms to itself some image of the things we hear spoken of, before any opportunity occurs of seeing them. Often the picture is very incorrect and extravagant; but, upon the present occasion, I discovered that my imagination had painted a tolerably accurate copy of the West Indies, from the descriptions which I had heard and read.
Our coasting view of the island was not the most favorable: for a nakedness, which Barbadoes does not possess, appeared to prevail: nor did the general verdure equal our expectations: houses, huts, windmills, and sugar-works, although plentifully distributed, did not present the scenery, or the air of richness and comfort which we had expected. There seemed to be a want of inclosures, and a deficiency of trees and hedges. The buildings looked bare and exposed, and there was a deficiency of that protecting shade, for the cattle, which our feelings had deemed requisite in such a climate. The houses being without chimneys, and devoid of ornament, conveyed the idea of barns: nor could we associate them in the picture of wealth and abundance which had been called up in our minds. We wished that the numerous windmills, houses, and other buildings we saw, had been more protected by the deep-shading foliage of the tropical vegetation. If a variety of trees had been interspersed, or the branching silk-cotton, or stately mountain-cabbage had contributed its shelter, the appearance of comfort would have been preserved, and the picturesque effect rendered more striking. The land is considerably varied, being hilly and unequal; and, from the general view in sailing along the coast, it appears to rise into two or three distinct tables, which elevate themselves abruptly, one above another.
We made the entrance of the harbour, just as the sun was sinking into his watery bed, for the night; and it was in debate whether we could fetch in before it grew dark, when it was suddenly decided against us, by the wind shifting and coming round directly ahead. This we learned was the land-breeze. In these regions the trade-wind blows from the sea, during the day; but this commonly subsides, as the sun goes down, and a contrary breeze sets in, from the land, which continues throughout the night.
Being prevented from coming to anchor, we stood off and on, at the harbour’s mouth, until daylight, when we discovered that we had no cause of regret in this additional delay; for all the beauties of Carlisle Bay were, now, exhibited to us, not only under the still light of the morning, but brightened by the golden rays of the rising sun. If we had gone in at night, we must have lost a most enchanting prospect; and the loss would have been irreparable, for, after the eye had been accustomed to the rich foliage, the houses, the towns, the fields, and all the peculiarity of tropical scenery, the impression which we now felt could never have been excited. The mind was, at this moment, in a state to enjoy them: the novelty was great, and every object striking. We had been long at sea, and the eye sought, eagerly, the shore. Land was anxiously desired: the view of it opened to us very favorably; and, from the various circumstances conspiring to its improvement, the prospect was rendered more delightful than it could have been at any other period.
The harbour is a fine open bay, the whole of which, with its varied shores, was before us: many ships were riding at anchor, and a multitude of boats and small vessels were sailing and rowing to and fro. The two points of land, at the entrance, serve as a defence, while they augment the beauty of the harbour. On one of them appears a formidable battery, together with an extensive barrack for troops: on the other is a fine grove of mountain-cabbage, and coco-nut trees. Through the shipping at the bottom of the bay, are seen numbers of neat cottages; among which are interspersed various tropical trees, affording the protecting shelter of their umbrageous summits. On the south-west shore stands Bridge-town, the capital of the island; and on the north-east, upon high ground, is a new and handsome quadrangle of stone barracks, with the military hospital and other buildings of St. Anne’s Hill. Nor is the prospect confined to these limits; for, in addition to the water, the shipping, and the numerous other objects, immediately before the eye, the land in the back-ground is seen above the houses, the trees, and the topmasts of the ships, rising to a great distance, clothed in all the richness of its tropical apparel. Verdant fields of sugar, of coffee, and of cotton; fine groves, dark with luxuriant foliage; country villas; clusters of negro huts, windmills, and sugar-works, all present themselves to diversify and enliven the picture. Such was the scene which appeared before us as we sailed into Carlisle Bay. You, whose idol is nature, in all her forms, will feel a friendship for the evening land-breeze which so happily lengthened a voyage, before too long.