LETTER L.
How true it is, my friend, that where inclination leads, difficulties are easily subdued! After hearing many apprehensions expressed, and various obstructing circumstances enumerated, we have performed our contemplated expedition, without encountering a single impediment which was not readily overcome. This confirms the opinion that most of the obstacles which interrupt our minor plans, and even of the mighty stumbling-blocks placed in the more important path of life, exist only in imagination. In far the majority of cases discretion and prudent perseverance might surmount them; but where exertion is required, we are too indolent to remove the opposing forms which fancy has created. Terrified, or too implicitly yielding to visionary impossibilities, a torpid inaction prevents us from examining whether they are phantoms or realities, and we forego the advantages of the pursuit, from a disinclination to use the efforts which may be required in its execution.
In the present instance, if we had listened to the timid counsel of those whom fancied difficulties had deterred from engaging in it, themselves, we should have neglected making an excursion which has afforded us infinite gratification.
But, to our subject. Soon after our visit at Mr. Blair’s, our party was formed, and we set off en quartette, Captain de Courcy, Captain Webb, Lieutenant Mackie, and myself, on our fondly anticipated journey. We had a four-oared boat from the fort, with an awning built over the part where we sat, which not only protected us from the sun, but also, by means of a door and windows, enclosed us as it were in a cabin. Sufficient intelligence could not be collected to enable us to fix either the limits of our journey or the period of our return. We had, therefore, no settled route, but our movements were to be forward or retrograde, as we found that pleasure or discomfort attended our path. It was completely a marooning adventure. Where to find food, or where take rest depended entirely upon chance. Every planter, and every estate were alike unknown to us: but we knew that there were plantations, and places of abode, upon the borders of the river: we knew, also, that in all civilized countries, where strangers are but seldom seen, hospitality is a prevailing characteristic of the inhabitants; we became intruders, therefore, upon the good-will of the colonists, resolving to regulate our proceedings by the information we should acquire, and to govern ourselves wholly by events.
Among the obstacles said to present themselves, was that of the period of the year being unfavorable; and it was suggested that from the heavy rains of the wet season, the river would be swelled, and the current so rapid, that the negroes would not be able to row against the stream. Upon this account it was pretended that we could go only a very short distance each day, and not even that without great labour and fatigue to the slaves. If we had not received other more encouraging reports, this would have deterred us from the undertaking. It certainly was a circumstance that merited consideration, and we found in it an additional reason for avoiding every thing like a settled plan. At worst, should night chance to overtake us, when no plantation was nigh, we should always have the remedy of tying the boat to a tree or a bush at the side of the river, and letting the negroes rest until morning.
The principal difficulty that presented itself was our ignorance of the Dutch language. It happened that I was the only one of the party who had any knowledge of it, and whether I might be sufficiently conversant with it to make myself understood was doubtful. However, by a little Dutch, a little French, and a little English we trusted we might make our way. We established a certain routine of duty, such as directing the slaves, presenting the party to strangers, making the necessary arrangements, &c.; and agreed that each should take it by turn to be “orderly” for the day; thus forming a sort of military fatigue duty, which was to fall upon each in rotation, according to a settled muster.
To provide for ourselves the comforts, or even the necessaries of the journey, was not in our power. Our whole list of stores consisted of a cold ham and some bread, with a supply of plantains for the negroes, some wine and Hollands, a few bottles of water, and our hammocks.
Thus equipped, we embarked on the morning of Wednesday, June 15, from the town of New Amsterdam. We ordered the most intelligent of the negroes to assume the post of cockswain, and putting the others to the oars, took our departure without having decided where to make even our first place of call. Rich estates, commodious houses, and hospitable planters, were not deficient about this part of the river; and as we had adopted the principle of seeking a home, wheresoever we should find it most convenient, we resigned ourselves to the discretion of the slaves, desiring them to make a port whenever they might feel themselves fatigued, or should find the tide impede their progress. It happened that they took us on shore, about two o’clock, at a plantation called “Het Pleytanker.” We advanced to the house, without hesitation, and introduced ourselves by observing that we were engaged in an excursion up the river, and had put in for the purpose of resting the slaves; and of learning where we might conveniently take up our quarters for the night. We were received with great cordiality by M. Deen, the manager, who insisted upon our having dinner before we proceeded further. At table we met a Dutch gentleman, named Abbensets, who very kindly invited us to accompany him to the plantation “Essendam,” where he was pleased to say he should be happy to accommodate us not only for the night, but for the morrow, and as long as we could make it convenient to give him our company. We hailed this as a fortunate rencontre, as it augured favorably respecting the hospitality we might require at the various plantations in the course of our journey. We partook of a very good dinner at Het Pleytanker, and, soon afterwards, availing ourselves of the tide, accompanied M. Abbensets to Essendam, which we found to be one of the richest coffee plantations of the colony. The house bespeaks the value of the estate, being a spacious building, much superior to any we had seen in Berbische, except the governor’s mansion. Nothing could exceed the kindness and liberality of M. Abbensets. He entertained us with all the cordiality of a friend, and we lamented that, from speaking a different language, we were deprived of the full enjoyment of his society. M. Abbensets knew only his native tongue, therefore, in conversing with him, we were obliged to speak in French through the medium of a Mynheer Wohler, a Hanoverian surgeon, to whom we were presented on our arrival at Essendam, and who, very obligingly, undertook the office of interpreter to both parties. On account of my being a medical man, and having some knowledge of the Dutch language, M. Wohler mostly addressed himself to me in conversation: as a professional brother, I was likewise honored with further attentions, and invited to accompany him in a ride round the estate; for which purpose he ordered a very excellent horse to be saddled and brought to the door; accordingly, leaving the other gentlemen to converse by signs with M. Abbensets, we made the tour, not only of Essendam, but also of Sans Souci, the adjoining plantation under the management of M. J. Abbensets, nephew of Mynheer Abbensets of Essendam. Green paths, bordered with luxuriant fruit-trees, traverse these estates at various parts, and while they form pleasant rides, give a general air of neatness, and add to the richness conveyed by the fertile coffee-bushes which spread the fields.
On our arrival at Essendam we were served with tea and coffee, and at nine o’clock was set before us a handsome supper of soup, fowls, omelet, and many other good things. Madeira and claret wines were amply supplied, also Hollands, bottled small beer and porter. At eleven we went to our hammocks, congratulating each other on the success of our first day’s adventure.
Our intrusions were not barely permitted, but we were treated with the most unaffected hospitality, and, in the kind attentions of those we visited, we could discover that genuine welcome, which seeks to make the stranger feel that in giving his company an obligation is conferred—not received.