Chapter XXI (3)

Favourable as the situation of Clarence is for the purpose for which it is intended, it is much to be regretted that it is so unhealthy for Europeans. During our stay on the island four deaths occurred; these persons were the sail-maker, one of the carpenters of the colony, a seaman of the Portia, colonial schooner, and one of the crew of the Susan, an English brig that we found here on our first arrival. The Susan was in the Calebar river waiting for a cargo, when her crew were attacked with fever, which quickly carried off her captain, mates, and left only one person alive. The vessel thus reduced was without her crew to bring her out of the river, much less to complete her cargo, and she might have remained there till the last had died, but for the watchful attention of Mr. Becroft, who brought her to Clarence with a party of men, and, after putting a new mast into her, and doing all in his power to set the vessel in order, supplied her with provisions and fresh people and sent her to sea. We were offered a passage in her to England, but declined accepting it, in consequence of the condition in which she had been. She was afterwards obliged to stop at Cape Coast, in consequence of the fever having broken out afresh on board of her. The most melancholy account of the effects of the climate here, which came within our knowledge, was in the family of Lieutenant Stockwell, the officer commanding the party of marines, whose name we have mentioned before. This gentleman had brought his wife and a large family with him from the island of Ascension, who were residing with his brother officer in a building called the Waterfall House, which had been erected by Captain Owen. Mr. Stockwell successively lost five of his children and five servants, the latter of whom successively died as they came into his service. His brother officer also died, making eleven in number, and Mr. Stockwell and his wife narrowly escaped with their lives. The house was in consequence deserted by them, and has since been occupied by the black people. The fever which attacks Europeans at this island is said to be similar to the yellow fever in the West Indies. The symptoms are the same, from the commencement to the end of the disease, and it is equally as summary in its effects. George’s Bay is said to be far healthier than Clarence, and being on the western side of the island receives the full benefit of the sea-breeze, while at Clarence this wind is later, and is interrupted by land to the westward of it. In addition to this, the sea-breeze passes over a long and disagreeable swamp in its progress to Clarence, which no doubt charges it with all kinds of noxious vapours. George’s Bay, besides having the benefit of a pure sea- breeze, has a good deal of clear land about it, and equally as good a soil as Clarence.

It is more than probable, as we have now ascertained, that a water- communication may be carried on with so extensive a part of the interior of Africa, that a considerable trade will be opened with the country through which we have passed. The natives only require to know what is wanted from them, and to be shown what they will have in return, and much produce that is now lost from neglect, will be turned to a considerable account. The countries situated on the banks of the Niger will become frequented from all the adjacent parts, and this magnificent stream will assume an appearance it has never yet displayed. The first effect of a trade being opened will be to do away with the monopoly near the mouth of the river, which has hitherto been held by the chiefs of the lower countries. Steam-boats will penetrate up the river even as far as Lever, at the time of year in which we came down, and will defy the efforts of these monopolists to arrest their progress. The steam-engine, the grandest invention of the human mind, will be a fit means of conveying civilization among these uninformed Africans, who, incapable of comprehending such a thing, will view its arrival among them with astonishment and terror, but will gradually learn to appreciate the benefits they will derive, and to hail its arrival with joy. In this case Fernando Po will become of still greater consequence, and will no doubt become a depot of considerable importance. It is my opinion, however, that much expense would be saved, and, above all, many valuable lives, if it were possible to adopt George’s Bay as the place for the principal establishment. Of the different parts of the coast, Accra is the most healthy, and were it nearer, I should recommend it for such a purpose, the soil being good and clear of underwood for many miles around. But the distance at which it lies from the mouth of the river is too great for such a purpose.

_Thursday, December 23rd._—The superintendent, Mr. Becroft, invited me to accompany him in the Portia, colonial schooner, to the Calebar river, whither he was going to procure stock for the use of the colony. The place from which this is obtained is called Ephraim Town, where it appears to be very plentiful. Being tired of Fernando Po, I accepted his invitation, to pass away the time that we should yet have to wait before we could get away, notwithstanding all our anxiety to get home with the news of our discovery. My brother, being very ill, was unable to accompany us. I left him at Clarence, and embarked with Mr. Becroft in the evening. We departed from Clarence with a fine breeze, but found it necessary in going out to be particularly careful of being drifted by the tide, either on Point William, or on the Adelaide islets at each extremity of the cove, as the tide always sets either towards one or the other. In leaving the cove, it is best to keep as near as possible midway between the two extremes, and not to approach either the one or the other, nearer than can possibly be avoided. The currents in the Gulf of Guinea are stated to be very variable, although they are most generally from the westward, obeying the direction of the sea-breeze. The harmattan generally produces a very strong westerly current in direct opposition to this, and the want of knowing it has frequently proved fatal to vessels; the masters of which imagining that they were under the influence of an easterly current, have been actually drifted many miles to the westward in the course of a single night, and have found themselves on shore the next morning. The violence of the current from the westward when the sea-breezes are strong, is so great, that it is scarcely possible to believe that a day or two of the harmattan would overcome it; but the effect of this is so powerful, that it is well known, to those who have frequented the gulf, that the current produced by the harmattan will even continue against the westerly winds after they may have again set in. A remarkable instance is related of the velocity of the currents in the gulf to the southward of Fernando Po. In the month of June, a vessel performed the passage between Princes Island and St. Thomas, in twenty hours, which generally occupies from eight to ten days. The distance is about ninety-three miles; and the vessel must have averaged 4.6 miles per hour. The harmattan is said not to extend to the southward of Fernando Po, but this has not yet been fully ascertained.

The passage through the Gulf from Fernando Po to Sierra Leone, is generally extremely long and tedious, owing to the prevalence of calms and the different currents. It is generally made either by running to the southward and getting into the south-east trade, or by keeping in shore as far as Cape Palmas, so as to benefit by the land winds. The former method is generally recommended by the merchantmen, as being safer and quicker; for a vessel adopting the latter is more under the dangerous influence of the currents, besides being obliged to keep close to the shore: it is also adopted by the merchantmen in their homeward voyage. Sometimes vessels by taking a mean between these two methods, get between two different winds, by which means they lose the benefit of both, and are delayed by calms and rains. This part I was informed was at the distance of about sixty miles from the land; so that vessels should pass either far without or else within that distance on leaving Fernando Po.

In this part of the Gulf of Guinea, between Fernando Po and the Calebar river, the rainy season is stated to commence in the month of July, and to be at the worst in August and September, accompanied by tornadoes of a most terrific description. The rains continue during November, and cease in the month of December, but the coast is said to be seldom many days together without a tornado. During the other months of the year, dry, hot weather is experienced, excepting about May, when slight rains take place. These rains are looked on as the winter of the natives, and are considered by them equally as cold in their effects as our winters in England are by ourselves. They are equally alive to the change of the seasons as in northern countries, and prepare themselves against the cold weather during the rains, comparatively with as much care as we do against our winter’s frost.

The chief peculiarity of this climate, which distinguishes it from all others within the tropics, consists in the furious storms of wind and rain, accompanied by the most terrific thunder and lightning it is possible to imagine. These storms are known by the name of tornadoes; and one would be almost inclined to think that the ancient belief of the torrid zone being of a fiery nature, and too hot for mankind to live in, originated in the exaggerated reports of them which might have gradually found their way into the part of the world then known, and from which they were not very far distant. We have already seen three here, but they were trifling in their effects compared with those which take place in the rainy season. They are described as being most violent, but, happily, of short duration: nothing can withstand the fury of the wind while they last, but they give sufficient indications of their approach, of which the commanders of ships on the coast know how to take advantage. They invariably come from the eastern quarter of the horizon, and last about fifteen or twenty minutes. Their first approach is indicated by a luminous, glaring appearance in the north-east quarter, which in the course of about an hour has shifted gradually to the east and south-east, while the usual sea-breeze from the north-west continues blowing. Having arrived in the south-east quarter, the storm shows its nearer approach by incessant flashes of lightning of a most awful description, accompanied by thunder which is absolutely deafening. The proximity of the lightning contributes not a little to its awful appearance. A short interval of calm now takes place, occasioned probably by the suspension of the sea-breeze, from the advance of the tornado. A small arch may at the same time be perceived near the horizon, in the direction of the approaching storm. This, which from the time of its being first seen increases rapidly, being nothing more than the effect of the wind in dispersing the heavy clouds through which it passes. The momentous crisis is now at hand. As soon as the arch has reached about half-way to the zenith, the storm bursts forth with the most impetuous violence, and torrents of rain immediately follow. Ships that happen to be caught in it before they have adopted the necessary precautions for safety by taking in all their sails, are thrown on their side instantly; but happily the warning it gives of its approach is sufficient to enable the experienced navigator, who is ever on the watch for changes in the weather, to reduce the sail from his ship, and put her head in that position in which she is best able to withstand its effects, by running before the wind. This awful period lasts generally about a quarter of an hour—when the wind subsides rather suddenly, while the rain falls incessantly: shortly afterwards, the wind shifts round by the south to its old quarter, the west, until another tornado comes to disturb it. There are several peculiarities attending the tornadoes, which are rather remarkable. It has been remarked by experienced navigators, that they are much influenced by the different phases of the moon,—that they generally commence with the new or full moon, at which time they are the most violent, and that they even come on at the time that the moon sets. The influence of the moon on the weather in other countries is doubted, but this is an extraordinary fact, relating to the tornadoes, which has been proved by experience.

_Saturday, December 25th._—After a pleasant passage, we anchored this morning off Ephraim Town, in the Calebar river. The distance from Fernando Po to the north of the Calebar river, is about sixty miles; and Ephraim Town is distant about fifty miles on the eastern bank. On our way up the river, my attention was attracted by something of a very extraordinary appearance hanging over the water from the branch of a tree. My curiosity was excited by it, and I was at a loss to conjecture what it was. I did not remain long in suspense, for we soon passed sufficiently near it to enable me to discover that it was the body of one of the natives suspended by the middle, with the feet and hands just touching the water. So barbarous a sight quickly reminded me that I was again among the poor deluded wretches of the coast, although I had seen nothing so bad as this on my way down to the brig Thomas, in the river Nun. The natives of this place are pagans, in the most depraved condition, and know nothing of Mahomedanism, nor any other creed. They believe in a good spirit, who they imagine dwells in the water; and sacrifices such as that just mentioned are frequently made to him, with the idea of gaining his favour and protection. The object selected for this purpose is generally some unfortunate old slave, who may be worn out and incapable of further service, or unfit for the market; and he is thus left to suffer death either from the effects of the sun, or from the fangs of some hungry alligator or shark, which may chance to find the body. The circumstance of the hands and feet being just allowed to be immersed in the water, is considered by these deluded people as necessary, and they are thereby rendered an easier prey.

It is usual with ships on their first arrival in the river, to be visited by Duke Ephraim, the chief of the town; a personage who is well known to the numerous Liverpool traders that frequent the river. The reason of this visit is, that the duke may receive his present, which consists generally of cloth, muskets, rum, or any articles of that description; and he always goes on board in great state in his canoe for this purpose, previous to which, no one is allowed to leave the ship. This regulation, which is a method of securing the port-dues, affects those only who come to the river for the purpose of trade; and as the Portia was a government vessel, we were not included. As soon as we had anchored, I accompanied Mr. Becroft on shore, and proceeded with him to the duke’s residence, for the purpose of paying our respects to him. A walk of about ten minutes brought us to his house, and we found him in the palàver square which belongs to it, busily engaged in writing, and surrounded by a great number of his principal people. It was something unusual to find a native chief thus employed; but the large dealings which Duke Ephraim appears to have with the Liverpool merchants, accounts in some measure for this accomplishment, and the smattering of English he has obtained. His only pretensions to dress consisted in a smart, gold-laced hat, which he wore, and a handsome piece of silk tied round his loins. His chief officers, who were next to him, also wore gold-laced hats, while those next in rank to them wore silver-lace, and the lower class contented themselves without either. We arrived at council time, but Mr. Becroft being immediately recognized by the duke, he received us very cordially, and made us sit down. Duke Ephraim bears the character of being always very civil and attentive to the English, and of making himself very active in supplying their wants of live stock. He has formed a favourable opinion of them from the _fine things_ they bring him, but his discernment goes beyond these; for the circumstance of slave vessels having been captured and taken out of the river by the boats of the English ships of war on the station, has impressed him with admiration of their boldness and courage, and given him a very exalted opinion of their power. Vessels of war formerly came up the rivers in search of slavers; and he has received their commanders with much kindness, and assisted them all in his power; a trait in his character, which is rather extraordinary, when their object is considered, as he is the principal agent by whom supplies of slaves are furnished from the interior. None, however, are allowed to come up now, in consequence of the deaths which occurred.

After a short time, we were desired to go up stairs into his best room, and we accordingly ascended about thirty or forty wooden steps, and entered a spacious apartment, when the sight that presented itself was of the most extraordinary description. The room, which was about thirty feet in length, by about twenty in breadth, was literally crammed full of all kinds of European furniture, covered with cobwebs and dust about half an inch deep. Elegant tables and chairs, sofas of a magnificent description, splendid looking-glasses, and prints of the principal public characters of England, as well as views of sea and land engagements, set in handsome gilt frames, beautifully cut glass decanters and glasses, glass chandeliers, and a quantity of other things, too numerous to mention, were all mixed together, in the utmost confusion. A handsome organ attracted our notice, and a large, solid, brass arm-chair, which an inscription on it announced was the present of Sir John Tobin, of Liverpool. The inscription, or rather raised characters, were these: ‘Presented by Sir John Tobin of Liverpool, to his friend Duke Ephraim;’ and vain enough is the chief of his present. He exhibits this chair with the rest of his presents to the people, or any stranger who may happen to visit him, and allows them to feast their eyes, as he imagines, on the goodly sight; but such is his care and pride of them, that he will not allow them to be touched by any one; and his attendants are not permitted to approach them, even for the purpose of cleaning off the dust which has accumulated since their first arrival. The whole of this miscellaneous assemblage of goods are presents which have been made to the duke by merchants of Liverpool, as well as French, Spanish, and Portuguese traders, and are the accumulation of a considerable length of time.

Duke Town, or Ephraim Town, as it is known by both of these appellations, is situated on rather elevated ground, on the left or east bank of the river; and is of considerable size, extending principally along it. From the appearance of it, I should conclude that its inhabitants amount to at least six thousand people. The houses are generally built of clay, like those of the Eboe people. The breadth of the river opposite to it is not quite so wide as the Thames at Waterloo Bridge, and the opposite bank is not so high as that on which the town stands. The houses are built in an irregular manner, leaving very little room for the road between them; which, at this time, is exceedingly wet and dirty. The duke’s house is situated in the middle of the town, and, like the rest, is built of clay. It consists of several squares, round each of which is a verandah, similar to the houses in Yarriba. The centre square is occupied by the duke and his wives, the others being the abode of his servants and attendants, which, all together, amount to a considerable number. Immediately opposite to the first square, which forms the entrance to his residence, stands a small tree, profusely decorated with human skulls and bones. This tree is considered by the people as fetísh, or sacred; and is supposed to possess the virtue of preventing the evil spirit from entering the duke’s residence. Near the tree stands the house which is inhabited by their priests, a class of beings certainly in the most savage condition of nature that it is possible to imagine. The fetísh priests of Brass Town chalked themselves from head to foot, besides dressing after a fashion of their own; but these fellows outdo them by far, and make themselves the most hideous and disgusting objects possible.

Whether it may be with the idea of personifying the evil spirit they are so afraid of, I could not learn, but they go about the town with a human skull fastened over their face, so that they can see through the eye- holes;—this is surmounted by a pair of bullock’s horns; their body is covered with net, made of stained grass; and, to complete the whole, and give them an appearance as ridiculous behind as they are hideous before, a bullock’s tail protrudes through the dress, and hangs down to the ground, rendering them altogether the most uncouth-looking beings imaginable. Sometimes a cocked hat is substituted for the horns, and the skull of a dog or monkey used, which renders their appearance, if possible, still more grotesque. Thus equipped, they are ready to perform the mysteries of their profession, which I had not sufficient opportunity to inquire into, but which are quite enough to enslave the minds of the people. They seem to believe in a good and evil spirit; that the good spirit dwells in the river, which accounts for their sacrifices being made on it; and that the evil spirit dwells in a tree, which, being full of human skulls, keeps him away from them.

_Sunday, December 26th._—This morning, the duke’s principal man came on board the Portia to receive payment for some bullocks which Mr. Becroft had purchased. There was something in his appearance which attracted my attention, and I fancied that he seemed to be much dirtier than any I had seen yesterday. On a nearer inspection, I found his head and whole body to be covered with ashes, and a very dirty piece of sackcloth fastened round his loins. Besides this, he appeared to be suffering great distress of mind, and presented a most woful and wretched appearance. I asked him the cause of his grief, and why he had covered himself with ashes in such a manner; when he related to me the cause of all his distress. It appeared that he had possessed six wives, one of whom was gifted with a larger share of personal charms than the rest, the consequence of which was, that she received more attention from him, and was loved more than any of the others. This partiality naturally excited the jealousy of the other ladies; and, mortified by his neglect of them, they were determined on revenge, and resolved to get rid of their favoured rival by mixing poison with her food. They had just succeeded in effecting their purpose, which had caused the poor fellow much distress, and he had not recovered the effects of his loss this morning when he came on board the Portia. His tale was simple and ungarnished; and while he was relating it to me, the tears were trickling down his face. I never saw a black man feel so much for the loss of a wife as he did. This remarkable custom of mourning in sackcloth and ashes, appears to be peculiar to these people; and I find that they do not cease to cover their persons with them as long as their sorrow lasts. They do the same on the death of a relation; and it is the only instance of the kind that I have met with in the part of the country through which I have travelled.

Great uproar and confusion has prevailed in the town to-day, occasioned by an adventure of the doctor with the duke’s most favourite wife, which is likely to end tragically to the parties concerned. This person, who is the doctor of the town, it appears was the bosom friend of the duke, in whom the latter had the greatest confidence, and allowed him to visit his wives professionally, as often as he thought proper. The gentleman’s visits had lately become so frequent as to excite suspicion, and a look- out was accordingly kept on his movements. The poor doctor was soon caught in the snare; the motive of his visits was found to be of an illegal nature, and the enraged duke has ordered both to be bound hand and foot and thrown into the river to-morrow. There is no doubt that this will be done; for, although these men have many wives, still a misdemeanor of this nature is looked on by them with great abhorrence.

We found seven French vessels lying in the river, one Spanish, and two English. One of the latter, named the Caledonia, a ship of five hundred tons burthen, is the property of Sir John Tobin, of Liverpool, which, with the other, the brig Elizabeth, are taking in a cargo of palm-oil.

The river Calebar is very serpentine, and there is scarcely any other tree besides the mangrove to be seen on its banks. The right bank is intersected by numerous creeks, well known to the natives, who frequent them in their canoes; they communicate with all the rivers that fall into the gulf of Guinea, between this river and that on which Benin is situated. The natives go as far as Benin in their canoes, but there is no communication by water with the Cameroons river, which seems to be totally distinct from the Calebar. The canoes of the natives are the same sort as those of the Eboe people, but not so large. The river is full of crocodiles, which are generally about twelve or fourteen feet long, and are very daring in search of prey. A short time previous to our arrival two deaths had been occasioned by them. Sir John Tobin has a large store close to the river-side, in which palm-oil is kept for shipment on board the Liverpool vessels, and one evening lately an unfortunate native boy, tired with his day’s work, fell asleep on the floor. In the course of the night an alligator attacked him, and he was awoke by finding himself in the jaws of the monster: his struggles and cries were vain; the powerful creature lacerated him in a most dreadful manner, and tore off one of his legs, with which he retreated into the water, and the remains of the unfortunate boy were found the next morning shockingly disfigured, and weltering in blood. The death of the other was occasioned by his losing an arm in a similar manner.

Provisions at present are dear at Duke-town, and rather scarce. Bullocks are sold at twenty dollars each, and those not of a very good quality; goats and sheep at three dollars, ducks at half a dollar each, and fowls at half a dollar the pair. Yams are cultivated by the natives very successfully, and are considered the best flavoured and finest of the country. There are no cleared portions of ground on the banks of the river, and their cultivation of the yam and other vegetables is at a distance in the woods.

_Thursday, January 20th._—Since my first return to Fernando Po from the Calebar river, I have accompanied Mr. Becroft there twice in the Portia. In this interval the Caernarvon, an English vessel, has arrived with government stores from England for the establishment, and as she is going to Rio Janeiro for a cargo to take back, and there seems to be no prospect at present of our getting away from this island by any other means, we have requested Mr. Becroft to conclude an agreement for our passage to that place, from whence we hope to be more successful in finding our way to England. About a week ago the brig Thomas, in which we came from the river Nun, touched at the island on her way home from the Cameroons,—her commander Lake thinking that we should take a passage with him. We have now been here seven weeks, and would certainly stay seven more rather than put ourselves into his power again. We had experienced quite enough of his care and kindness, and therefore declined his offer of taking us. After waiting three days at the island, he sailed about six o’clock in the morning, and had not got more than a mile from the anchorage, when a large vessel with long raking masts suddenly appeared from behind a part of the island, and was seen in pursuit of him. We observed this vessel fire several guns at him, which at length made him take in sail and wait. We have no doubt that this vessel was a pirate, and our suspicions were confirmed the next day by seeing the two vessels lying becalmed close to each other. There were no signs of them on the next day, and we saw nothing more of the Thomas[3].

The commission for the adjudication of slave vessels is not yet removed from Sierra Leone to this place, and all prizes are taken there for condemnation.

Everything having been prepared for our departure, we embarked on board of the Caernarvon, —— Garth, commander, for Rio Janeiro. The reception that we have met with at Clarence from the officers of the establishment has been most gratifying, and has far exceeded our expectations. To Mr. Becroft, the superintendent, we are under peculiar obligations, having enjoyed the benefits of his hospitality all the time of our detention here; and the kind attention of this gentleman, as well as that of Mr. Crichton, the naval surgeon, who is one of the most amiable gentlemen we ever met with, and Mr. Beatty, has gone far towards removing the ill effects of the exposure we had undergone on our way down the river. Everything was supplied us that the place could afford; and it will always be a source of gratification to us to reflect on the time we passed in their company.

At six in the evening, having taken leave of our friends, we embarked and bade adieu to the island of Fernando Po. Mr. Stockwell, the officer of marines, accompanied us on board, having taken his passage, like ourselves, to return to England. Our crew consists of seven European seamen, two free negroes, and one Krooman, besides the commander of the vessel and two mates. Two of the seamen, Owen Williams and Charles Hall, are very ill with fever.

_Sunday, January 23d._—The weather has been calm, and we have not lost sight of Fernando Po. At noon, Owen Williams, seaman, died. The funeral service was read over his remains by Lieutenant Stockwell, before they were committed to the sea.

_Wednesday, January 26th._— —— Wells, the Captain’s steward, —— Jones, the second mate, and John Collins, seamen, were taken ill with fever. Having been accustomed to perform the office of doctor while in Africa, my services in this line were put in requisition, and I immediately took a large quantity of blood from the two latter and applied blisters, after which Mr. Stockwell gave them medicine. To-day Charles Hall is rather better.

_Thursday, January 27th._—John Williams, seaman was taken ill with fever; I bled him immediately and shaved his head, and Mr. Stockwell gave him medicine. The weather still continues calm, with light winds, and we can still see the island. The fever seems to be making great havoc among us. Those whose fever is intermittent are likely to do well, but the others seem to have no chance of recovery.

_Sunday, January 30th._— —— Smith, seaman, was taken ill with fever. This poor fellow, after I had prepared everything for bleeding him, would not permit me to do it, but I managed to shave his head and put a blister on it. At two P.M., —— Wells, the captain’s steward, died, while I was lifting him up in his bed to give him some medicine. The crew are lying in different parts of the vessel ill with fever, in a helpless and most distressing condition. A general panic seems to have taken possession of them all, which is likely to be attended with fatal consequences. We determined on keeping them from knowing of the death of the poor steward, and accordingly at night we carried his remains on deck, and threw them into the sea over the stern of the vessel.

_Friday, February 4th._—Captain Garth was taken ill with fever, and John Williams, seaman, died. We still have fine weather, but we are making little progress over to the coast of America.

_Sunday, February 6th._—The chief mate taken ill with fever. So much are we reduced now, that the three black men, with my brother and myself, are all who are left to work the vessel, and only one of these, the Krooman, knows how to steer. Mr. Stockwell is constantly employed in attending the sick.

_Monday, February 7th._— —— Smith, seaman, died. In consequence of the sick state of the crew, I have been constantly employed both day and night in working the ship. My principal station has been at the helm every night until twelve o’clock, and every morning after four. I manage to get a few minutes to eat my breakfast, and the rest of my time is occupied in attending the sails and looking to the sick. My brother’s time is employed in nearly the same manner. In addition to our troubles, the vessel is so completely overrun by rats, that it is quite impossible to stay below with any comfort; and as for sleeping there, it is out of the question. The sick are all on the upper deck in their hammocks, and fortunately, the weather has been hitherto tolerably fine.

_Monday, March 14th._—Off Cape Frio. This evening our only Krooman fell into the sea. This poor fellow, whose name was ‘Yellow Will,’ called loudly to us for help, and although the vessel was not sailing at a great rate, he missed everything that we threw overboard to save him. To have altered the ship’s course would have endangered the masts and sails, and our small boat was so leaky, that it would not swim. We had no alternative, and were obliged to abandon him to his fate with the most painful feelings, and heard his cries nearly an hour afterwards. There is nothing more distressing than an accident of this nature. To see an unfortunate man grasping in vain at anything which is thrown to him as the ship passes by him—to see him struggling against his fate as he rises on the distant wave, which frequently conceals him from view, and to be unable to render him the least assistance, while his cries die away in the breeze, raise sensations which it is impossible to describe. This man, in our present condition particularly, was a great loss to us, and was the best among the black people.

_Tuesday, March 15th._—This morning the weather was very hazy, which prevented our seeing the land, although we knew it to be at no great distance from us. We were becalmed all day, and found, by the decrease of the depth, that we were drifting close on towards the shore. At five in the afternoon, the ship was about a quarter of a mile from the land, which we discovered by three large hills of a sugar-loaf appearance being close to us. Finding by pieces of cork and other things which we threw into the water, that we were drifting fast on the breakers, which we could distinctly hear, we made an attempt to get the long-boat out to save ourselves, as we expected the ship would be very soon wrecked, but we found that we could not muster sufficient strength to lift her over the side. At this critical moment, a breeze of wind from off the land saved us from destruction, and enabled us to get the vessel under command.

_Wednesday, March 16th._—The breeze favoured us, and at two P.M. we anchored in the harbour of Rio Janeiro.

_Thursday, March 17th._—This morning, we went to pay our respects to Admiral Baker, the commander-in-chief on the South American station, and made known to him our situation and anxiety to return to England. The Admiral received us in that kind and hospitable manner, which is the peculiar characteristic of a British seaman: he invited us to his table with his officers, and ordered us a passage in the William Harris, a government transport, which is to sail for England in a day or two.

_Sunday, March 20th._—We sailed this afternoon for England, in the William Harris. We had scarcely reached the outside of the harbour, when the wind failed us, and we were becalmed near one of the islands. As we found the ship drifting fast towards it, we were obliged to come to anchor, and remained so during the first part of the night. About midnight, a strong wind rendered it impossible for the ship to remain longer at anchor, and no time was therefore lost in endeavouring to get her to sea. To get the anchor on board was too long a process; the safety of the ship became endangered by the delay it required, and to save her from drifting on shore, we were under the necessity of cutting the cable, by which we lost about forty-five fathoms of it, besides the anchor. We were then enabled to set sail, and with difficulty cleared the land to leeward of us.

_Thursday, June 9th._—We arrived at Portsmouth after a tedious voyage, and gladly landed with hearts full of gratitude for all our deliverances.

_Friday, June 10th._—Having left my brother at Portsmouth, I arrived in London this morning by the mail, and reported our discovery to Lord Goderich, his Majesty’s Colonial Secretary.

NOTE.—The curiosity of the reader will, no doubt, have been excited by the total disregard and apathy displayed by the commander of the brig Thomas, respecting the engagements of Richard Lander, to pay the price for which he and his brother had been ransomed from the hands of the Eboe people. This behaviour, which can be accounted for in no other way than by allowing it to have arisen from a determination not to part with the arms of the vessel, although whatever might have been given would have been replaced at Cape Coast Castle, deeply implicated the good faith of His Majesty’s Government, and must have been attended with a bad effect. It is to be hoped, however, that this has been removed, as, on the return of the Messrs. Lander, orders were immediately sent out to pay the proper demand.—ED.

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