The climate and the unscientific methods of hygiene, in the crowded ship, soon began to tell upon the constitutions of the men on the Cyane. Tornados, heavy rain, with intense heat, par-boiled the unacclimated white seamen, and many fell ill. The amphibious Kroomen relieved the sailors of much exposure; but the alternations of chill and heat, with constant moisture, and foul air under the battened hatches, kept the sick bay full. Worst of all, the dreaded scurvy broke out. They were then obliged to go north for fresh meat and vegetables. A pleasant incident on the way was their meeting with the U. S. S. Hornet, twenty-seven days from New York. At Teneriffe, in the Canary Islands, during July, the Cyane, though in quarantine, received many enjoyable courtesies from the officers of a French seventy-four-gun-ship in the harbor.
When quarantine was over, and the Cyane admitted to Pratique, Lieutenant Perry went gratefully ashore to tender a salute to the Portuguese governor. In an interview, Perry informed his worship of the object of the American ship’s visit, and stated that the Cyane would be happy to tender the customary salute if returned gun for gun. The governor replied that it would give him great pleasure to return the salute—but with one gun less; as it was not customary for Portugal to return an equal number of guns to republican governments, but only to those of acknowledged sovereigns. This from Portuguese!
Perry replied, in very plain terms, that no salute would be given, as the government of the United States acknowledged no nation as entitled to greater respect than itself.
The only greeting of the Cyane as she showed her stern to the governor and the port, was that of contemptuous silence. By September 20, the John Adams was off the coast, the three vessels making up the American squadron.
The first news received from the colonists was of disaster. On their arrival at Sherbro they landed with religious exercises, and met some of Paul Cuffee’s settlers sent out some years before. The civilized negroes from the Elizabeth were shocked beyond measure at the heathenish display of cuticle around them. They had hardly expected to find their aboriginal brethren in so low an estate. They could not for a moment think of fraternizing with them. Owing to the lateness of the season, they were unable to build houses to shelter themselves from the rains. All had taken the African fever, and among the first victims was their leader, the Rev. Mr. Bacon. From the Rev. Daniel Cokes, the acting agent of the colonization society, the whole miserable story was learned. The freed slaves who, even while well fed and housed on ship, had shown occasional symptoms of disobedience, broke out into utter insubordination when “the sweets of freedom in Africa” were translated into prosy work. After Bacon’s death there was total disorder; no authority was acknowledged, theft became alarmingly common, and the agent’s life was threatened.
The native blacks, noticing the state of things, took advantage of the feuds and ignorance of the settlers and refused to help them. Sickness carried off the doctor and all of the Cyane’s boat crew. Yet the fever, while fatal to whites, was only dangerous to the negro colonists. Twenty-three out of the eighty-nine had died, and of these but nineteen by fever. The rest, demoralized and discouraged, gave way to their worst natures.
The colony which had been partly projected to receive slaves captured by United States vessels, for the present, at least, proving a failure, Captain Trenchard requested the governor of Sierra Leone to receive such slaves as should hereafter be liberated by Americans. The governor acceded, and the Cyane turned her prow homeward October 4, and after a fifty-seven days’ experience of constant squalls and calms, until December 1, arrived at New York on Christmas day. Emerging from tropical Africa, even the intermediate ocean voyage did not prepare the men for the severe weather of our latitude, and catarrhs and fevers broke out. The ship, too, was full of cases of chronic sickness. Between disease and the elements, the condition of the crew was deplorable.
In this, his first African cruise, Perry, as usual, profited richly by experience. He had made a systematic study of the climate, coast, and ship-hygiene. He believed, and expressed his conviction, that for much of the preventible sickness some one was responsible. Though, thereby, he lost the good will of certain persons, Lieutenant Perry rendered unquestionable benefits to later ships on the African station. During the next year, the U. S. S. Nautilus, with two agents of the government, and two of the colonization societies, sailed with a fresh lot of colonists for Africa. Thus the slow work of building up the first and only American colony recognized by the United States went on.
There were some far-seeing spirits on both sides of Mason and Dixon’s line, who had begun to see that the only real cure for the African slave-trade, on the west coast of Africa, was its abolition in America. The right way for the present, however, was to carry the war into Africa by planting free colonies.