The young heart is generally thought to bound with joyousness at the prospect of a change of scene, but it was otherwise with me: the world, in the map of my microcosm, excepting the circumscribed view I had taken of it, was an entire desert, where there was no one to love or be loved. In this state of mind the agitation of my feelings nearly choked me, till I sought the favourite arm of a tree in the orchard, where, unobserved, I found relief in a flood of tears. Still oppressed, as the evening advanced I crept to bed without speaking to any one,—not even to my sister, whose buoyant joyfulness at the time excited my surprise. I spent the night in a state of half-dreamy stupor, being neither asleep nor awake; whilst the imagination was engaged in endeavouring to contrast the retrospection of the past with the prospects of the future. Every act of kindness which had been bestowed upon me, stood out in strong relief in my memory, as a vista of other days, and into which I had not previously been permitted to look; whilst the little village-world was presented to my view as a bright speck in creation—an oasis in a desert, all around which was a mass of confusion and darkness.
The placid countenance of the curate, monarch of his locality, with all the scholastic paraphernalia, were brought vividly under review; the form on which I was wont to sit, with every cut I had made on the well-marked desk with my knife—an instrument with which boys early prove themselves tool-loving animals—were all objects of endearment to me. My fancy then roamed into the little churchyard, where I took a view of each mouldering heap, with the tombstones at the head and foot, every epitaph on which I had committed to memory. I then stood under the brave old Hercules, as we designated an oak tree where four of us had met most days to proceed together to school. Here I distinctly noted—such is the power of memory when the feelings are excited—each abrupt rising of its rugged roots, and marked the boundary of its shadows at different hours of the day, as described by its broad, out-spreading limbs on the greensward.
I wandered to the copse, entered by a well-defined gap at the angular point; noted each spot where I had taken eggs or young ones from birds that had been incautious enough to attract my attention; paused to take a last look at the hazel from which I had gathered the largest cob-nut; lingering at every step, and sighing as I passed each object of remembrance. The following morning, sleepless and weary, I arose with the sun, and collected all my little stock of property—bows and arrows, fishing-tackle, bats, balls, and other juvenile valuables; these I labelled as presents to my intimates. My heart then knew how highly it was susceptible of friendship; it had yet to learn how readily, after the lapse of a few years, such attachments are forgotten. The desire in after life to meet with an old schoolfellow is seldom prompted by a higher motive than a curiosity to learn his success in the world.
It is probable that my parents had associations and connexions from which they were about to separate, and deeper feelings of regret to struggle with, than myself, when parting from attached friends. It is fresh in my memory that our calls were very numerous, and that many reasons were adduced to dissuade my father from emigration. The Sunday previously to our departure, the curate, from the pulpit, mentioned the intention of the families to emigrate, and offered up a prayer for the realization of their prospects of success. I shall ever remember the day I left the kind preceptor of my youth and the companions of my boyish days. My father had sent a chaise to fetch me and my valuable stock of personal property a day before our final departure. I think I see now the mild old curate shaking my hand and giving me his blessing and friendly advice, while around the gate of the old house were assembled my school companions, to take a last sight of me before I took my leave of home and of them.
Voyage to Demerara
Our journey to the coast, and voyage to Demerara, a ci-devant Dutch settlement, was unattended by any circumstance of peculiar interest. I therefore take up the narrative from the period of our landing. My father was purely a business man, never permitting pleasure or curiosity to divert him from his pursuits. Immediately, therefore, on our arrival at Demerara, preparations were made for us to proceed on towards our destination, regarding the situation and name of which I had not up to that time taken any interest, I had, however, heard that we had to travel some hundreds of miles over a country where there were no roads, as in England. I also remember a long discussion between my father and my two uncles, whether we should travel with a waggon or purchase horses and mules to carry our luggage and relieve the females when fatigued. As our course was through an extensive wooded country, where carriages could not conveniently pass, the latter mode of travelling was ultimately adopted. Our party consisted of nine persons, namely, my father, mother, sister, and self; one uncle, with a grown-up son (his father being a widower); the other uncle, his wife, and son (a youth three years older than myself).
My father provided himself with a horse and mule; the latter to carry our personal necessaries, and the former to alternately relieve my mother, and my sister, who was a healthy girl of sixteen years of age, when either was fatigued with walking. One other horse was purchased for the use of my aunt and the party in general. We were provided with two painted cloths, to be used as a covering when we should halt for rest, and no better accommodation could be obtained. I remember my father making a pen-and-ink sketch of the route, marking down, with the assistance of a traveller, the stages we were daily to accomplish.
Crossing the savanna
Thus prepared and equipped, as all of us were in excellent health and spirits, we commenced our journey over the plantations of the settlers, proceeding onwards till we reached the extended savannas—open plains. Here the scene was altogether so new and striking, that it was with difficulty I could be prevented from running after every living thing that came under my view. At one moment I was lost in wonder at the multitudes of creeping creatures which, at every step, crossed my path, while the birds of the air in numbers, variety, and plumage, fixed me with astonishment. My excitement was so great that I actually screamed with delight; at another moment I ran from object to object with such eagerness, that, my mother became alarmed for my intellect, affirming that no one in their senses could sustain so much unnatural excitement.
On the third day of our journey I began to be seriously fatigued, and my father placed me across the back of our mule. This, however, was a measure against which the animal at once entered his protest, by refusing to move forward the moment I threw my legs across him; his conduct seemed to imply that at starting a contract had been made with him to carry the baggage, and he would not consent to its infringement; and it would appear that the mere attempt to overburden him soured his temper for the whole journey; for a more obstinate or perverse mule was never crossed by man or boy. At length we entered into a compromise, by removing a portion of his baggage to one of our horses; and he then allowed me to ride in peace, as he proceeded sulkily along. He was, however, faithful to his second bargain, never evincing any more discontent. This third day of our journey was the longest we had yet had, and we were all of us anxiously looking for some habitation towards its close, where we might rest for the night. The sun soon promised to hide his golden beams behind the hills which formed the horizon, and we all showed signs of fatigue. We were much delighted when my father informed us that we were approaching the house of a settler, where he hoped to obtain shelter for the night. We proceeded up a steep declivity to the house in question, forming rather a picturesque party. My sister was first, mounted on a heavy dappled grey horse, with my father and mother by her side. I followed on my mule; while the remainder of the party were some fifty yards in the rear. As we halted before the house, my father informed us that, in all probability, this would be the last time we should find accommodation, even in the outhouse of a settler; and that in future we should have to resort to our painted cloths for shelter during the night.