LETTER XLVI.
Fort St. Andrew is situated on the eastern bank of the river Berbische, opposite to the island which graces its entrance. Nothing bearing the semblance of the abode of man is within sight of it: nor is there any way of escaping from it, either on foot, in a carriage, or on horseback; the river being the only private path, and the only public road. At the back of the fort is an extensive savanna, giving habitation to loud-roaring frogs, also to enormous snakes, alligators, and other reptiles. This naked waste stretches to a great distance, and is bordered by dark forests, which reach near to the fort, and preclude every view except of the water and the flat uncultivated savanna. In these woods wild Indians range in all the freedom of nature. Sometimes also tigers are seen prowling from their deep shades; and our ears are daily and almost hourly saluted with the loud chattering of monkies, the louder screaming of parrots, and the confused noise of numerous other inhabitants.
The fort is calculated for the accommodation of between two and three hundred men. The territory attached to it scarcely reaches beyond the buildings, and the whole garrison is confined to a circle of less than half a mile; the sole promenade, without the gates, being from the barrack to the hospital, and back from the hospital to the barrack, a distance of little more than a hundred yards. A short path has, indeed, been opened into the savanna, which forms a very limited walk, in the dry season, only. A few of the government negroes, who are employed at the fort, have constructed small huts at the back of the hospital, which call to my remembrance the cottagers’ cabins in the Highlands of Scotland. At these habitations, we sometimes witness the joyous dance, and have our ears regaled with the sound of the rude African drum, the rattle, and the banjar.
Beyond the immediate precincts of the fort we do not find any human abode, without making a journey of, at least, a mile and a half by water. At that distance is now forming the town of Amsterdam, the new capital of the colony. Between the fort and the town the river Kannye opens into the great Berbische river; and between the Kannye and the fort, the border of the parent river is still covered with the wild woods: but these are doomed to the axe, and soon a road will be opened upon the bank of the river Berbische to the river Kannye, and from the opposite shore of that river to the town. This will be a great, and desirable improvement. It will at once relieve the gloominess of the situation, and scenery of the fort, form a convenient promenade, for horse and foot, and remove the dull solitude of the garrison, by establishing a more easy intercourse with the capital.
The town is yet in embryo. According to a plan formed for its construction it is to be built upon the angle, or peninsula, between the rivers Berbische and Kannye, extending along the bank of the former. The land on which it is to be erected is in part cleared of its wood, and divided into lots ready for building; but, at present, only here and there a scattered house is to be seen. Beyond the prepared land, and not half a mile from the government-house, the Bush still overhangs the river Kannye; but those destructive engines fire and the axe are now directed against it.
The whole scenery at New Amsterdam, as well as at Fort St. Andrew, betrays the infant state of the colony. The dreariness of the land, just robbed of its thick woods; the nakedness that prevails around the government-house; the want of roads and paths; the swampy savanna; the heavy forests; in short all that meets the eye conveys the idea of a country just emerging from its original rudeness, into cultivation.
Since my arrival in this colony my hours have been busily occupied in attending the sick, and establishing regulations and arrangements for their accommodation. We have a garrison-hospital, built by the Dutch, which is tolerably commodious, and, with a few alterations, may serve for the present garrison. The Hollanders, without any regard to climate, had preserved their European custom of placing the sick, two or three together, in a species of box, with high enclosed sides, instead of keeping them apart, and giving them the advantages of air and cleanliness, by putting them upon open bedsteads.
I have directed that all these confined and offensive bed-boxes should be removed, and have given orders to have some bedsteads made upon a new construction, which I trust will prove both convenient and comfortable. They will consist merely of four short posts, those at the top a little longer than those at the bottom, and two side-rails, fitted together with wooden pins, and so contrived as to be easily taken to pieces, and packed in a portable form, in case we should at any time wish to remove them. They will be made of mahogany, a wood which is so plentiful in these colonies as to be used for every common purpose. A piece of strong canvass, stretched from side to side, will form the bedding; a head-board will slide into grooves in the two upper posts, and the side-rails will move up and down in an opening cut through them, and be fastened with pins, so as to be at any time raised or lowered at the head, without disturbing the patient. When these shall be finished, I hope to see a very complete hospital. The unfortunate sick will have the comfort of being well lodged; each will have his mahogany bedstead to himself; and men, with different maladies, will not be crowded together in filthy boxes, nor shut up from the refreshing air.
The 93d regiment is intrusted with the defence of this colony. The mess is one of the pleasantest I have yet met with. In gratitude I ought to tell you that every individual emulates his commander in kind and friendly attentions toward me. Indeed I cannot but be strongly sensible of the many marks of politeness and civility with which I am daily honored. Most of the officers are men of cultivated manners. Among them are several of considerable fortune, and some of rank; men who are not only well-disciplined soldiers, but well-bred gentlemen; being no less versed in the polished rules of civil, than in the austere observances of a military life. The general order and decorum which mark their conduct afford the surest indication of correct discipline, and offer the most convincing proof of the high advantage derived from serving with a strict, but respected commander. Colonel Gammell, while he suffers no remission of duty, is affable and pleasant towards those who are under him. He treats them as companions, and seeks to engage their affection and esteem. The soldiers consider him severe; but he is their friend, and the majority of them are not insensible of it. We frequently overhear the conversations and remarks of those about the hospital, respecting him, and they always terminate very much to his credit; for if one calls him rigorous or severe, another instantly contrasts what they regard as his better qualities, saying—“Why, to be sure, he is a little close upon us, and keeps us to it; but then you know it is for our own benefit; and, besides, how good he is to us when we are sick! You see he keeps these doctors to their duty, too. He comes to see us himself every day, and makes them give us plenty of every thing that’s good for us; and ’tisn’t all officers do that, you know! Some of ’em are more afraid of an hospital than a cannonball, and never care whether we die or live!”
In this way their remarks usually go to the approval of the Colonel’s conduct towards them; and, like good soldiers, they acknowledge their esteem for a commander who, by imposing a strict routine of duty, gives them cause to pride themselves upon a degree of pre-eminence in point of health and discipline.
Among the many ills of climate, I am now suffering from a teasing eruption which has thrown itself out upon my legs; a complaint which I find has lately been prevalent among the troops in this colony, although we had not observed it at Demarara. It is more severe than the prickly heat, but somewhat of the same nature; and is, perhaps, only an aggravated degree of that disease. It creates an uneasy sensation, not amounting to actual pain, but sufficient to rob me of rest.
The second day after my arrival at Berbische I had the unhappy opportunity of inspecting the body of a soldier who had fallen sacrifice to yellow fever. The appearances were similar to those which we had witnessed at Demarara, except that, in the present instance, there were some striking marks of inflammation in the chest.