As you assure me that every syllable respecting the prevailing disease of this climate is read with eager interest, I may mention two striking cases, which occurred upon our late passage.

The morning after we left Port au Prince, the wife of one of the soldiers, a robust healthy woman, was seized with a severe febrile attack; the symptoms running so high as to threaten yellow fever in its most dangerous form. Early intimation of her illness was conveyed to the medical attendants, and we had the opportunity of taking away blood very soon after the invasion of the disease. An active medicine was likewise administered; and it was found necessary to repeat the bleeding in the evening. The next morning the fever had greatly abated, and, upon visiting her the day after, being the third day of the disease, I found her busily engaged at the wash-tub. The fastidious may seek objections, pretending that this was not a case of yellow fever; but, from the nature of the attack, and from all the experience I have had, I am persuaded that this poor woman would have been rapidly destroyed, under the most malignant symptoms of that disease, if it had not been prevented by the early use of the lancet.

Only a short time after I had been called to this patient, we were hailed by the master of one of the American vessels, asking the captain if he had “any doctors on board,” and soliciting medical aid for one of his sailors, who, he said, was “seized with a violent fever.” A boat was hoisted out without delay, and I desired one of the hospital assistants to go and visit this American sailor, directing him, in the event of his finding the symptoms such as we had witnessed in the case of the soldier’s wife, to take from him twenty or thirty ounces of blood, to administer what other remedy should appear to be necessary, and to tell the captain to let us hear of him as early the next morning as he might have an opportunity of speaking the ship. The attack was found to be very similar to that of the woman: venæsection was consequently employed, and an evacuating medicine prescribed; but we heard nothing further from the sailor during the voyage. On sending to the vessel to ascertain how he was, upon completing the passage, our inquiries were met by the poor man’s grateful thanks, with the pleasing intelligence that he “recovered immediately after the bleeding.”

The day we arrived at the Mole, the Drake and Pelican brigs of war came into harbour from a cruise—the Pelican having on board some French or brigand sailors to place in the naval hospital. By the humane exertions of the British, these men had been saved from a sinking privateer, which had ventured to attack the Pelican, in the hope of making her a prize. Scarcely could the crew have been more unfortunate than in attempting this vessel, for she is equally celebrated on account of carrying an uncommon weight of metal, as for having fought many brave and successful actions during the war. In less than half an hour from the commencement of the fight she drove the privateer to the bottom of the ocean. It is melancholy to know that not less than eighty hands were on board, and that with all the best exertions of the Pelican’s company, only a small number of them could be saved, among whom were some so frightfully burned that they were horrid and miserable figures to behold.

Upon conversing with these men, in the hospital, I learned that they were actually blown out of the ship into the sea, by the explosion of the privateer, before she went down, and that by this accident alone they escaped the fate of their companions. Some of them were scorched and blistered from head to foot, and were lying in agonizing tortures. Among these wretched sufferers I observed two men and a boy who, from the appearance of the small portion of skin which remained upon them, must have been either Europeans, or the offspring of European parents. It is not incurious to witness the medley of different colours, and different nations assembled in this asylum of the sick. Regardless of all the contentions and jealousies of war, our hospitals are the general receptacles of the afflicted. Friends and foes are equally admitted, and relief is impartially administered to all. Here are associated Africans, French, Spaniards, Creoles, English, Scots, and Irish, sharing, in common, the soothing balm of humanity. Being disabled, notwithstanding it be in the field of strife, enmity is banished, and they participate, as friends, the cares and duties which are indiscriminately dispensed to those who are sick, or wounded.

In our walk through the hospital, we found one of the wards filled with inhabitants, still less to be expected than any of the foregoing; viz. a crowd of enormous turtles. These had been brought to the Mole by one of the ships of war for the use of the sick. They were placed upon their backs, each having its head supported by a large stone. In this situation they were kept alive by wetting their eyes every morning with sea water. They are used for the patients in the hospital by being cooked into a plain nutritive broth; and in this humble form they constitute a very valuable supply of wholesome food, amidst the paucity of fresh animal provisions.

Many of the sick, in the naval hospital, are afflicted with scurvy; many also with dysentery, and, in these cases, the turtle broth forms an excellent support. The convalescents, likewise, from fever, and from wounds, find it a very nourishing diet.

On my first arrival at the Mole I mentioned to you the very barren aspect of the surrounding territory, and I may now remark, that it does not improve upon acquaintance. In my rides to the hospitals, barracks, and outworks, at short distances from the town, I find the general face of the country dreary and sterile almost beyond example. Never did mountains exhibit a more naked and unfruitful appearance. They seem to be so entirely arid and unproductive as to afford no provision for man or beast, nor scarcely for bird or insect. Still the immediate scene around the town must have been much worse before the place was captured by the English; for, since it has been in our possession, several barracks, hospitals, and block-houses, have been erected upon different eminences, placing so many objects in view, and giving a degree of animation and diversity to the picture.

In a cool, elevated situation, above the town, is an extensive barrack, which was the remotest position established by the French. The part built by them is of stone; and, by a wooden addition, we have most unwisely converted the structure into a close square—perhaps the worst form that could be contrived, in this country, for any habitation intended to be occupied by a crowded body of people.

This building is now unoccupied, in consequence of the number of troops being diminished, and the line of defence extended to a greater distance up the hills, by a chain of new barracks and block-houses, sufficient to accommodate all the present garrison. The height of the rocks, their steep and rugged form, and the general rudeness of their barren surface, seem to bid defiance to the approach of an enemy; and, as defended by the late improvements ordered by General Whyte, the Mole, if adequately garrisoned, might probably be secure against any force which the brigands, or the republicans now in the island, could bring against it: but with the enemy in possession of the surrounding territory, and acquainted with the weakened state of the garrison, we cannot feel ourselves quite safe against an attack.

In the days of our pleasant mess on board the Lord Sheffield, it was the favorite anticipation of our party, that if we should chance to be serving in the same colony at the conclusion of the war, or at the time of our being recalled to England, we should contrive, if possible, to visit the United States of America, together, on our way home. The idea was then so grateful to me that I have never abandoned it, and notwithstanding my then happy, and social comrades are widely separated by death, or other causes, I still look with hope to this excursion as a journey not only of high gratification, but of faithful devotion to the memory of a party of congenial friends, who can never meet again.

My desire to visit the northern, is further strengthened by the opportunity I have had of residing in the southern part of the American continent; and whenever it shall be my lot to return to England, I shall earnestly endeavour to make the voyage by way of the United States.