The bay thus forms an arc, on the chord of which may be found large shoals, and even islands, formed by the action of this great stream, and the natural deposits of two large rivers, which discharge themselves into the upper or north-western portion of the bay, called respectively the Magaia or Esperito Santo, and the King George’s or Manakusi.
The anchorage of the bay lies mainly in the mouth of the English River, which there runs due east and west, and it may, therefore, be imagined how secure is this anchorage, land-locked from all winds, and protected from the sea by a number of islands and shoals placed as natural breakwaters.
Nature could not well have formed a bay more admirably adapted for the purpose of holding communication with the interior of the adjoining country.
To seaward, open on all sides to this bay and the Indian Ocean, forming the southern arm of Delagoa Bay, is Iniack Island, which is 240 feet in height, and shows no indication of a sickly climate; but, on the contrary, has been always used by the natives of the adjoining low country of Tembe (which forms the south side of the bay) as a sanitarium.
Inland, on the north bank of the English River, is a lofty cliff, called Point Rubin, gradually declining into the interior to the banks of the adjoining rivers. This would be almost as healthy a locality as the former, although, of course, it would not have the advantage of the pure and bracing breezes from the Indian Ocean.
The remainder of the bay may be pronounced a dead flat, extending into the interior for many miles; and, in viewing the bay, the simplest idea of self-preservation, which, we are told, is the first law of nature, would at once suggest that in such a locality there were only the two above named places for the erection of a town. To make this matter plainer, we have only further to observe that the lowness of the surrounding extent of country, the humid atmosphere arising from the surface of a bay wherein the great Gulf Stream constantly circulates, and the malaria which must naturally arise from the mouths of four considerable rivers discharging the drainage of large tracts of country, and, before disemboguing themselves, traversing flat districts where their streams are sluggish and overcharged with masses of decayed and decaying substances, must naturally lead to a state of the atmosphere, in the bay tending to generate, with the heat of the climate, those virulent forms of fever known under the name of marsh and putrid.
With the above description of this lovely bay, it will only be necessary to state that the most unhealthy spot has been chosen for the erection of a town; which will at once explain the reason of the unhealthiness of the Portuguese settlement of Lourenço Marques.
This town derives its name from a Portuguese, who first established the ivory trade, at this place, with the natives of the country. It is situated on the north bank of the English River, almost at the foot of the high red cliff which forms the south and eastern face of Point Rubin; consequently, all the heat and glare from this cliff is reflected on the unhappily-situated settlement from sunrise until three o’clock in the afternoon. Between the town and the river there is a high sand-bank, which effectually cuts off the sea-breeze. In the rear of the town there is a swamp, or marsh, which is at once the destruction and salvation of the settlement, for, while its pestiferous breath pollutes the atmosphere, and causes all in its neighbourhood to breathe the air of death, its slimy nature, depth, and treacherous bottom prevent the onslaught of the natives, with which the Portuguese are constantly threatened; for which reason the only two field-pieces which the garrison possesses are pointed towards this, their best friend and worst foe.
The town consists of a miserable square of squalid-looking houses, surrounded by huts containing the natives whom the occupants of the ruinous-looking habitations have enslaved. This miserable place is protected by a structure, to which is applied the name of a fort, having a large flag-staff, displaying the flag of Portugal, and a few honey-combed guns, which cannot be fired.
The town is filthy in every sense; even the Governor’s quarters being so surrounded with filth and dirt of all sorts, that none but Portuguese and Natives, acclimatized by long usage to the pestilential atmosphere of the place, can approach it without being attacked with fits of vomiting. It is impossible for any one to see the town of Lourenço Marques without being struck with the idea how it is possible for human beings to live there.