June 18.—A weary blank! Since my last date, I have had the coast fever, caught by sleeping on shore, at St. Anne de Chaves, and am now just recovering my physical force. My sickness was accompanied with little bodily pain, but with great prostration of strength. Able medical advice, and kind and judicious treatment, have brought me up a little; and, with the help of God, I may again call myself well, in a week or two more. But there is great danger of relapses, caution!
We are now at Monrovia, having made the passage from the river Gaboon, hitherward, in seven days and fourteen hours, from anchorage to anchorage—an unprecedented run! The Macedonian has been here, and is gone.
19.—Still better this morning. The sky looks brighter than before; the woods seem greener, and cast a lovelier shade; the surf breaks more gracefully along the beach; and the natives, paddling their canoes around the ship, look more human—more like brethren. Returning health gives a more beautiful aspect to all things. It is almost worth while to have been brought so low by sickness, for the sake of the freshness of body and spirit, the renewed youth, the tenderer susceptibility to all good impressions, which make my present consciousness so delightful. It is like being new-created, and placed in a new world. Life, to the convalescent, looks as fair and promising as if he had never tried it, and been weary of it.
20.—Still improving. The fine weather of yesterday and to-day invigorates and cheers me. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and some friends are expected on board, by special invitation. We pay much attention to the persons in authority here; it being the policy of our government to befriend and countenance the colonies. I hear that a serious effort is now in progress, at this place, to declare Liberia independent of the Colonization Society, and set up a republic. Lieutenant Governor Benedict and Mr. Teage are said to be at the head of the movement. Both are men of talent. Mr. Teage formerly edited the Liberia Herald, and preached in the Baptist Church, where his services were most emphatically gratuitous; for he not only ministered without a stipend, but supplied a place of worship—the sacred edifice being his own private property. He is certainly one of the ablest, if not the very ablest, writer and preacher in the colony. The project above-mentioned seems to me an unwise one; but benefits, which do not now appear, may possibly be obtained by sundering the relations between the settlement and the parent society. Much is expected from England. That nation, however, can never feel a maternal interest in the colony, nor will do for it what the Society has all along done, and continues to do.
21.—Still stronger. I am now able to resume my place at the mess-table. But care is necessary to avoid a relapse. It is one of the worst features of this disease, that it appears to continue in the system for many months after the patient's recovery, and to renew its attacks upon the slightest exposure. Most persons find it necessary to leave the coast, in order to the re-establishment of their health. I am not the only convalescent on board the ship. Mr. Ewal, a young Danish supercargo, is here for a few days, to try the benefit of a change of air, and enjoy the attendance of a regular physician. He has been on shore above a month, sick of the fever, under the charge of Dr. Prout, a colored practitioner. Our captain pitied his condition, invited him on board, and, with his uniform kindness, took him into the cabin, where, in only three days, he has already improved wonderfully.
27.—A sunny day, after three or four dull and rainy ones. My health is now so far restored, that I shall insert no more bulletins. I owe much to the care of our surgeon, who is very able and attentive, and has seen much yellow-fever practice, in the West Indies. The assistant-surgeon is also an excellent and an untiring officer. My fever, like the other cases which have happened on board, was of a bilious kind. All foreigners make themselves liable to it, either in its milder or more aggravated forms, by sleeping even a single night on shore; but, according to Dr. Hall, a physician of great experience on the coast, health may be preserved for an indefinite period, by the simple precaution of sleeping always on ship-board, at a very moderate distance from land. This does not altogether coincide with my own observations. It is true, that during eight or ten months after the arrival of a ship upon the coast, the health of her crew will probably continue good, if they neither sleep on shore nor ascend the rivers. But, if exposed for a longer period to the enervating influences of the unceasing heat, and the frequent penetrating rains, it may reasonably be expected that any ship's company will be broken down, even though not a single death may occur. In our own ship, we have recently had many cases of fever, where the patients have neither slept on shore, nor been exposed to the peculiar malaria of rivers. Doubtless, however, the fever of the country, where all due precautions have been used, will be much lighter on board, than on shore. But the patients will be liable to frequent relapses, and a complete recovery will be almost out of the question, without a change of climate. It is another objection to the long continuance of ships on this station, that all wounds or injuries, however slight, have a tendency to become obstinate and dangerous sores, which incapacitate these afflicted from performing any duty.
Besides the coast fever (which, Dr. Hall remarks, he has never known an emigrant completely to escape), there is an intermittent fever, against which no acclimation will protect the colonist, any more than against the bilious fever of America. The Rev. Mr. James, a colored missionary, told me, that, for seven years, he had been accustomed to suffer attacks of fever, once in every four or five weeks.
The natives of this country are as healthy as any people under Heaven. A benignant Providence has adapted the climate, soil, and productions, of every part of the globe to the constitutions of those races of mankind which it has placed there. Nor is Africa an exception. In spite of her desolating wars, and the immense drain of her children through the slave trade which for centuries has checked the increase of population, she is still a populous country. The aboriginal natives, unless killed through superstition or cruelty, survive to an almost patriarchal longevity. The colored people of America, or any other part of the world, may be regarded as borrowed from Africa, and inheriting a natural adaptation to her soil and climate. Such emigrants, therefore, may be expected to suffer less than the whites, in the process of acclimation, and may, in due time, find their new residence more genial to their constitutions, than those which they have quitted. At all events, their children will probably flourish here, and attain a fulness of physical, and perhaps moral and intellectual perfection, which the colored race has fallen short of, in other regions.
As the country becomes cleared and cultivated, the mortality of the emigrants decreases. It is asserted to be one-third less, at this period, than it was ten years ago. The statistics of Cape Palmas show the population to be on the increase, independently of immigration. Dr. Hall affirmed (but, I should imagine, with unusual latitude of expression) that, in the sickliest season ever known at Cape Palmas, the rate of mortality was lower than that of the free colored population in Baltimore, in an ordinary year. In another generation, this may no doubt be said with perfect accuracy.
28.—Last night, the Porpoise came in, and anchored inside of us. As we lay unusually near the shore, and as the wind was rising, with a heavy swell, the brig found herself, this morning, in a dangerous position. She sent us a boat, to say that she was dragging her anchor, and to ask for a hawser. This was immediately supplied; but, before we could give her the end of it, she had drifted into the breakers. She hoisted her colors, union down, and was momentarily expected to strike. At this instant, a tremendous roller swamped one of our boats, and left the men swimming for their lives. The other boats went to their assistance, and providentially succeeded in rescuing them all. Meantime, the brig made sail, and, by the help of our hawser, was able to keep her wind, and got out to sea, leaving both her anchors behind.