LETTER II.

Berbische, July 12.

You will be surprised to hear of my having already made another river excursion; but I before mentioned to you that we had intended visiting the estate of Mynheer Roboloski, on our return from M. Heynemann’s: not being able to effect it then, and afterwards receiving a pressing renewal of the invitation by some friends of M. Roboloski, who came to pass a day with the officers at the fort, I availed myself of the opportunity of returning with these gentlemen, in company with Captain Maxwell. We dined on our way, at the plantation Zuidwyk; one of the most pleasant and improved spots on the bank of the river. M. Linde, the gentleman we went to see, was indisposed, but he was inspired with health on seeing a party of unexpected visitors, and entertained us with all the glad welcome of the colony, most cordially inviting us to prolong our visit.

Zuidwyk is a coffee plantation. It is well cultivated, and rich in fruits. The house is spacious, and, standing at a pleasant distance from the river, with the ground ornamented and improved, it not only appears respectable, but conveys the idea of importance.

We were most gladly received by M. Roboloski, who, in his attentions towards us, seemed anxious to rival all the friendly hospitality we had experienced. Every mark of distinction and respect was conferred upon us, and a liberal supply of all the best things of the house and estate was served for our entertainment. When we were at table, slaves were placed at our elbows to wave lime-boughs, in order to defend us from the insects; and, in the evening, we were set down to cards with two or three negroes burning lime-sprigs around us, while others were placed with green branches to chase away the musquitoes, as well as to serve us with copious libations from an adjoining table, which was spread with wine, punch, sangaree, and various rich liqueurs. At going to bed, and at rising, slaves attended us with water for our feet, and were strictly enjoined to kneel down, and wash them: nor were we suffered to encounter the fatigue of stooping, or permitted to wet our hands in so humble an office.

It happened that I expressed a desire to make the tour of the estate, in order to observe its extent and cultivation. The wish scarcely had utterance before orders were given for the favorite horse of M. Roboloski to be brought to the door. I had intended myself a pedestrian ramble, but was not permitted to engage in such “excessive fatigue.” Old grey was quickly led out, and appeared before the window; when the process of putting on the best saddle, “for Mynheer,” and arranging the gay trappings became the business of no less than six slaves, and occupied them for nearly an hour and a half, forming a truly diverting and ludicrous scene. The head, the neck, each side, and the very tail of the animal had its appropriate negro. The bridle, the crupper, the girths and stirrups, each occupied a separate slave, all hurrying in the full bustle of attentive exertion. At length the ponderous saddle was miserably fixed, and, without attempting to instruct the master or correct the slaves, I mounted upon the neck of old grey, and soberly trotted round the plantation. At every angle or turning I met with a fresh slave who had been stationed there in readiness to run after my horse, and to direct and attend me whithersoever I might wish to bend my way: but as neither old grey nor myself, were inclined to advance with great speed, all my running footmen were able to keep pace with me, so that before I had completed my journey, I had collected quite a host of attendants, and found myself moving amidst a naked and numerous throng.

Together with a natural sprightliness, and vivacity of temper, M. Roboloski is generous and hospitable to an extreme. All that was rare was presented to us while we remained; besides which, numberless offerings were heaped upon us at our departure, and he would have given us more than we could carry away. The whole produce of his house and estate: all he had, his Wowski excepted, was at our command. On leaving him he loaded us with fruits, pickles, Tonquin beans, and other good things; and it was with difficulty that we prevented him from depriving himself of even the comforts of his home for our accommodation. Towards his slaves he is extremely rigid, and holds them in very strict subjection; but, with the many good qualities he possesses, it cannot be suspected that cruelty has any share in his government. Unhappily, with the most liberal and generous nature, he has an unfortunate disposition which torments him with all the harrowing pangs of a dark and imbittering passion. Kind and attentive as he is both to his friends and to strangers, he knows neither peace, nor comfort, whilst they are in the house, from his mind being incessantly tortured with the dread suspicion that a disgusting black woman, whom he keeps as his wife, may be seized with a fit of inconstancy, and share her joys with others. He, therefore, locks her up stairs while his visitors are with him, and keeps the key of the door in his pocket. To such excess, indeed, does he carry his jealousy, as to employ a young slave in the house, for the express purpose of watching the poor hideous woman’s conduct, and reporting to him every look and action.

The day after our return from M. Roboloski’s, we witnessed one of the great and awful scenes of a West India climate—one of those convulsions of the weather, which convey the idea of enraged elements warring to reduce all nature again to chaos. It is not easy for any one, who is acquainted only with the soft breezes and showers of Europe, to conceive the terrific grandeur which is sometimes exhibited by a storm within the tropics.

Another very grand, but awful and afflicting scene has occurred to our notice in the funeral obsequies of one of our comrades; an officer of artillery, who had suffered an attack of yellow fever, and from exposing himself to fatigue and late hours during his convalescence, brought on a relapse which quickly deprived his country of his services, and us of his society. Warlike honors were done to his remains. The funeral was conducted with all the splendid and heart-moving parade of a military procession; which forms one of the most awful ceremonies that the eye or imagination can contemplate; but under the circumstances of our present situation it is too solemnly impressive to be practised without the risk of injury; for I have had occasion to remark that, in its effects, it threatens ills beyond the wholesome grief of the moment. The associations arising from the gloomy spectacle operate so powerfully upon the minds of those who are fearful of disease, as to endanger serious illness. The slow march, with the arms of war inverted; the doleful music; the sable hollow-sounding drum; and the thrice-vollied farewell, added to the common rites of sepulture, augment the distressful feelings natural to the occasion, and beget a degree of melancholy which not only sinks the soul with grief, but reduces the body within the pale of disease; and hence, although it be a grand and honorable observance, which may be attended with beneficial effects at certain times, or under certain circumstances, it would appear to be too dispiriting to be indiscriminately exhibited on service, particularly in a climate where the body is highly predisposed to sickness, and the mind held in a state of depression from the sudden and multiplied ravages of disease; and where the sense of honor which attaches to the ceremony is more than counterbalanced by the sad impression that the person who views it may, in the course of only a few hours, be himself the unconscious object of similar parade.

Two of the officers who attended the funeral, although as brave men as ever unsheathed a sword, were thrown into a state of despondency which nearly cost them their lives. Overwhelmed with grief for the fate of their comrade, and fearfully apprehensive of disease, the afflicting ceremony produced a degree of depression from which they had no power of rallying. All their military spirit, and manly firmness were subdued, and under the weight of inconsolable sadness, they were rapidly sinking into a state of sickness, from which they felt hopeless of recovery. One of them, who with the spirit of the lion, possesses the heart of a lamb, being wholly unable to suppress the overflowings of his sorrow, was seen day by day to shed tears, like an infant. Change of place became necessary to their relief; they were accordingly permitted to quit the fort for a time, and happily by diversity of scene, and absence from the grief-exciting spot, the dangers which threatened them were averted, and their usual health and spirits restored.

The wet season is now declining, and we are led to look for much increase of sickness during the subsequent months.

Not to fatigue you with a minute detail of the appearances, on the examination of our lost comrade, I may briefly observe that in the stomach they have hitherto been uniform, but in the other viscera very uncertain and dissimilar. With respect to the symptoms of the disorder, we now discover much instability. Either vomiting, low delirium, singultus, or coma, with or without yellowness of the skin, forms the prominent feature—each in its turn seeming to give the character of a distinct disease; but all terminating, within a few days, in the usual manner.