THE WEST COAST OF AFRICA AS SEEN FROM THE DECK OF A MAN-OF-WAR: CHAPTER I

THE
WEST COAST OF AFRICA

AS SEEN FROM

THE DECK OF A MAN-OF-WAR.

___

BY THE LATE

COMMANDER HUGH McN. DYER, R.N.,

H.M.S. “TORCH”


[NOTE: Because of the time in which the book was written, it contains some outwardly racist, ethnocentric material. I am posting the book here not only because Hugh was my third great-grandfather, but also because it contains both historical and anthropological data.]


CHAPTER I.


ON the 25th of September, 1871, I left Southampton in the Cape Mail Steamer Cambrian, to take command of H.M.S. Torch on the West African Station. Our voyage was on of incident and interest, and far from being altogether unpleasant, although few longer ones are on record. Mr. Boyle, in his book “To the Cape for Diamonds,” has given an account of it, which I will not repeat here; sufficient to say that we did, eventually, on the 8th November, of the same year [1871], reach Table Bay! The Cambrian was a sister ship to Her Majesty’s [Queen Victoria] newly acquired ship Dromedary, nee Briton, and of about [PAGE 2] equal speed. Proceeding at once to the naval headquarters at Simons’ town, I found that the Torch had been ordered to St. Helena by the 1st of December [1871], and I received orders to return there to meet her.

     The old Cambrian was again my carrier, but as she had a fair wind this time we made a quick passage of three days, and I was only too glad to travel with my old friends, Captain Driver and his officers.

     On arrival at St. Helena, to our dismay we found that we had to perform a four days’ quarantine, the Cape being suspected of measles, by the island authorities. Local history stated that measles had on one or two occasions played great havoc among the coloured population, and was consequently greatly dreaded. We passengers from the Cape had not heard if its prevalence there. However, there was no getting over the difficulty. I had one fellow sufferer, the Rev. J.J. Beck, of D’Urban, Capetown. He and I fought and begged for freedom without avail: for within an hour of the Cambrian’s departure we were landed bag and baggage, on the rocks below Banks fort, three miles east of Jamestown, with a key, which we were told would open a door somewhere thereabout, within which He should find shelter. Captain Diver in the most thoughtful manner, had provided against our immediate starvation by adding a well-filled basket to our luggage, and he tried to raise our spirits with a hearty cheer from his ship, by passengers and crew, as they passed [PAGE 3] us. But our position was not a pleasant one. Our luggage was heavy, Mr. Beck was heavy too, and on the slippery rocks it was rather dangerous for him to move. I could not lift our boxes by myself, and the tide was flowing. I secured the light packages, and leaving Mr. Beck to watch the heavy ones, and amuse himself by shaking his stick at Jamestown and tell his grievances to the fast flowing waves, I scrambled up the rocks to look for assistance. Fortunately, I found some coloured men collecting guano, and pressed one of them into my service, by shaking hands with him, and informing him he was in quarantine for touching me, and he must come along. With his aid I secured the luggage, and Mr. Beck. We had a steep climb of about 300 feet, to some long disused military quarters. The key would not open any door we could find. A little pressure of our backs did. We found a couple of little barrack rooms in not bad repair and an iron bedstead in each. Our factotum brought our luggage up, and shortly afterwards appeared some furniture and more provisions from the Naval Agent at Jamestown, and a kind note from Mr. Moss offering services. Glad to find ourselves not altogether forgotten, and likewise made happy in finding our man of all work a fair cook, we gave ourselves fairly up to the situation and tried to make the best of it. Mr. Beck had come to see his son, who was on his way to England from Java, and had been landed on the island in what was supposed to [PAGE 4] be a dying state, but happily our news was that he was much better; although this was a great relief to Mr. Beck’s mind, yet he could not restrain from writing a stream of expostulatory letters to the Governor and other authorities, on the hardness of his case and ridiculousness of their conduct. The letters evoked a polite reply or two, but not one minute of our imprisonment was remitted. And such a prison to [sic]! On the side of the cliff composed of cinders or volcanic rubbish, without a vestige of herbage to relieve the eye, - the sea below, and the sky above. No means of taking exercise, and no escaping from the voracity of the fleas indoors! I wonder what these lively animals fed on before our arrival?

     The Torch arrived the day before I was liberated; as soon as that took place I went on board and relieved Acting Commander Evans from his command. She is one of the prettiest little ships in the Service but very small - 428 tons. Her armament consists of four 20-pounder Armstrong breech-loaders, and one 64-pounder muzzle-loader, with a complement of 67 officers and mend and 12 Kroomen.

     The mail from England arrived the next day, and brought Admiralty orders for the ship to go to the Cape, so we had not much time to enjoy the hospitality of St. Helena, but we soon learnt that it contained a very pleasant society. A refreshing ride on the breezy upland, among the English looking lanes with ripe [PAGE 5] blackberries in the hedges, and roses blooming in the gardens, enabled me to shake off the remembrance of Banks’, and I met Mr. Beck about to return to the Cape in the mail steamer, in ecstasies of delight with the courtesy and kindness he had received from the Governor, the Colonial Surgeon, and everyone else in the island, and not a word did he mention of quarantine or fleabites!

     It is a wearisome passage to the Cape from St. Helena, under sail, as foul winds prevail nearly all the way. We were obliged to use as little steam as possible, and did not arrive off the Cape before the 27th, having left St. Helena on the 5th December [1871]. Just as we reached the “Bellows” rock off the Cape point, round which we had to proceed to Simons’ Bay, a heavy gale came on, and with less than a mile to go we had to bear up and run for shelter to Table Bay. On the 29th we started again, and again a south-easter prevented our rounding the Bellows, and we did not reach Simon’s Bay until the evening of the 31st. During the two days we were struggling against a heavy gale of wind and very high seas, and it seemed as if we were doomed to play the “Flying Dutchman” off the ever-blowing “Bellows.”

     The south-easters are the great drawback to Simons’ Town, for when they blow they render out-door exercise next to impossible, as they carry not only dust but sharp stones on their wings. I am sorry to [PAGE 6] say they were very prevalent during our stay, which lasted until the 23rd February [1872]. This is a long and rare rest for a West Coast Cruizer [sic], only to be accounted for by an exceptional circumstance. An important Court Martial had to be held on a late officer of the ship, and the Admiral commanding the Flying Squadron was ordered to sit as President. Admiral Seymour did not arrive until the 14th February [1872].

     Although the Cape and West Coast form one station, only the two Senior Officers’ ships have much chance of seeing the Cape part of it. The coast squadron is so reduced that any other ship can rarely be spared.

     We thoroughly appreciated our Cape visit, although the weather was not on its best behaviour, and the brown and yellow cheeks of the men who had been on the coast for the previous year became fresh and clear again.

     Who has not heard of the charms of the Cape? Its society, its climate, its scenery, all delightful; but as they have been frequently described I cannot linger over them. We left Simons’ Bay with many regrets and the most pleasing remembrance of our visit.

     Our destination was the Congo. There we were to meet the Commodore. After passing Table Bay we caught another south-easter - this time a fair wind - which carried us our first thousand miles in four days; then the wind gradually died away, the water became [PAGE 7] smooth, and the weather warm but pleasant, and on the 8th March [1872] we anchored in the Congo. We had not sighted land during the passage although we were seldom more than 100 miles from it. We fell in with an American whaler off Great Fish Bay, eight months out and nearly full, - she was going across to Tristan d’Acunha to complete. We gave her a large bag of old newspapers, for which the mate who boarded us was very thankful.

     The Congo is a grand river, without a bar or any obstruction to its entrance. It is in many places above Sharks Point more than 100 fathoms deep, and is navigable for vessels drawing 12 feet of water for 120 miles. Between Sharks Point on the south side and Banana on the north it is 7 miles wide, and it seldom narrows to less than a mile until far above M’Boma, which is 70 miles from Banana. The scenery on approaching the river from seaward is very pretty. Moderately high, green after the rains with the coarse grass it is clothed with, with groups of trees interspersed over it, the country has the appearance of English park land. Until the actual entrance of the river is reached, cliffs of a deep red colour form a margin to the green upland. Then come the mangrove and the swampy banks whereon it luxuriates.

     The river enters the sea with great velocity, and its current is felt for more than 100 miles from the shore. The tide is seldom able to check it much, and sailing [PAGE 8] vessels have always had great difficulty in ascending it. Its waters are of a deep brown, and the curious spectacle of islands floating on its surface I have never seen elsewhere. These islands are of a considerable size, and have tall grass and sometimes shrubs growing on them. They have been met 300 miles at sea, still green. One that fell across our bows, when at anchor off Banana, was 10 feet deep and at least 150 feet long. They are formed by the strong current, during the heavy rains, tearing away the banks. We were now (March) [1872] in the middle of the rainy season, but although the rain fell heavily it seldom lasted long at a time.

     We anchored at first off Banana, where most of the European factories are situated. Coal is generally to be obtained there, but the stock was out, so as Banana is unhealthy we moved over to Sharks Point, and anchored in very good shelter within 300 yards of it. Sharks Point is a low marshy peninsula, with a margin of sand towards the sea and river. A small clearance has been made among the mangrove trees, which come pretty close down, where a few native huts of cane are constructed, in which dwell some natives, who live by fishing and trading with ships that may anchor off the Point. Even during the slaving days our officers could land here, and the natives would furnish them with stock, and pretend to give them information of slaving operations in the river. They were soon on board of us with stock to sell and offers to do washing. [PAGE 9] Each man wore some article of naval uniform, and was learned in at least a few words of African-English. Some of the certificates produced were remarkable, such as, “I certify John Thomas to be the greatest rogue on Sharks Point, but he is the best washerman. Don’t pay him more than half-a-crown a dozen, and don’t let him enter your cabin.”

     They generally find out if a certificate is altogether bad, and take care not to show it, but being though a rogue is not with them such a bad character. John Thomas had served in a man-of-war, where he had eaten of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and with his native cleverness, made his own use of the power thus gained. The natives had all English names, and could tell stories about every ship that had visited Sharks point, and knew most of the officers that had ever been on the coast. They brought parrots and live stock to sell, and although purchases were nominally made in money, they were usually paid for in kind: old clothes, soap for the washerman, biscuit, &c., being in the greatest demand.

     King Peter claimed the sovereignty of this dominion, as a vassal of King Antonio, whom he described to me as a magnificent prince of great power, but of whom more hereafter. He paid me an official visit, attended by a staff of two attendants, one bearing a large key to which was attached a piece of wood marked “Burial ground.” He informed me that he [PAGE 10] kept the place clean where Englishmen were buried, and every Captain gave him a “Dash,” that is a present. I declined giving the Dash until I had seen the ground. He begged hard for a salute, and I gave him, to his delight, one gun.

     On visiting the shore I found the sand loose and tiresome to walk on, the paths through the grass wet and boggy. The little graveyard was under a large umbrella tree close to the landing, fenced round with the split stems of the palm leaf, and the graves kept tolerably clean. It was nearly full. Some of the head-boards were falling to decay, but many had been freshly renewed by ships which had lately been here. King Peter got his “Dash” with a warning not to fail in his agreement.

     We lay here for nearly a fortnight, and the Commodore not arriving in that time we then proceeded to Kabenda, a port on the coast 30 miles north of the river and a healthier place to lay at. Here we found supplies plentiful, and the paths, which serve the purposes of roads everywhere in Africa, hard and wide, so that there were many pleasant walks to be taken. The sportsmen also found a little shooting at guinea fowl and franklin, although from the length of the grass they were difficult to get at: the best chance was at break of day among the cleared garden patches or fields of pea-nuts. Small bush deer abound, and the natives sometimes get them and sell the venison, which [PAGE 11] is very good. The bright colour or the small birds was very striking: scarlet and black, orange and black, white and black, and pale blue prevailing. I heard a few songsters among them.

     There is a capital market held every morning under a large tree close to an English factory. Barter appeared the only mode of exchange practised by the natives. They seldom like to take money. Empty bottles and soup tins will purchase fish, fruit or vegetables. A bottle would pay 12 to 20 oranges. At this time fruit was scarce. Fish in many varieties could always be obtained. Among other kinds were prawns and whitebait, or the fry of some fish, which tasted quite as well.

     Meat, such as beef and mutton, was scarce, but could be obtained by giving a little notice; goats and poultry were always obtainable, and the muscovy ducks were especially good and cheap.

     One of the most remarkable men in Kabenda is “Capita,” a native and relative of the King Chico Franco. He has for many years acted as local agent for the African Company of Merchants, whose head quarters are at Banana, and I was told by Mr. Capper, had always been found trustworthy, intelligent, and painstaking. He cannot read or write, so he had a Sierra Leone clerk to keep his accounts, but he had been in England, and spoke English fairly.

     He was not deeply impressed with the blessings of [PAGE 12] civilization which he observed in our land, and told a pitiable story of his sufferings in Liverpool, where he had fallen among thieves, been robbed, ill treated, and laughed at, and gave it in his opinion “England good for white man, Kabenda good for black man; you likee England, you go; I likee Kabenda, I stay.” Capita had always a good humoured smile about him, and was ever ready to be of use to us, or to give information. He was very rich, had many wives, and two or three country houses, within a mile of Kabenda, built of wood in more than usual native style. He wisely adhered to the native dress, but it was always of good material; and native dresses, although they only consist of a shirt and loin cloth, are often very expensive. He wore a valuable ring on his finger, and would do his sporting (stalking sparrows!) with a double barrelled breech-loader of the latest fashion.

     The Kabenda men are all a superior race for the coast. They are expert sailors, and navigate the coasting craft employed in collecting produce between St. Paul’s de Loando and the Gaboon. Many of them are fair carpenters, coopers, blacksmiths, and tailors; and their towns and villages are the neatest and cleanest to be seen anywhere. The houses are built of cane, and thatched with palm leaves; the space around each is kept cleanly swept, and the gardens are regularly laid out and well cultivated. Little ornamental plots are even sometimes attempted, containing shrubs and [PAGE 13] flowers. The women, as is the custom throughout Africa do all this work, no freeman ever tilling the ground, but the men build the houses, work at trades, and as labourers at factories, and are seldom idle except when they have made sufficient money, when they will lay basking in the sun, smoking a pipe made from a calabash, and drinking rum like a “fine young nigger gentleman, one of the modern day!”

     The crops cultivated are pea-nut, cassada, Indian corn, and haricot beans. The pea-nuts are grown for exportation, the remainder for home consumption. The export trade is in palm oil and pea-nuts; it is considerable and increasing.

     Minerals are brought to market in small quantities, but the chiefs have a prejudice against selling them, they fear the greedy white man might take their country from them if they knew how full of wealth it is! Cotton has been grown, and was of good staple, but the expense of production was too great. I don’t see why that should be, but these matters are not easily understood. The country abounds in useful hard woods, red and white. Orange, lime, mango, and guava trees bear well, and the palm, of many varieties, flourishes.

     It is a pretty sight to see the fishing canoes go to sea with the land breeze every morning. They are small “dug outs,” seldom with more than one man in each, who propels his ship with a single paddle, with [PAGE 14] which he also steers when he puts up a light spritsail of native cloth, made from palm fibre. As the canoes get out to sea they are so low as to be lost sight of, and the men seem to be standing on the water. They return with the sea breeze which usually set in about noon and lasts until sunset. This breeze is very refreshing, and seldom strong enough to be disagreeable.

     The maximum height of the Thermometer during March and April [1872] at Kabenda and the Congo was 89° under the awnings on board, and the minimum was 73°. Heavy rain fell on seven days during our stay.

     On the 5th of April [1872] we returned again to the Congo to meet the mail steamer. Whilst at anchor off Banana, I received a complaint from Mr. Capper, Agent for the Company of African Merchants, that a boat of his, manned by Kabenda men and bound up the Congo, had been boarded by pirates, robbed, some of the crew murdered, and others carried away into captivity. Having examined the survivors of the crew on oath - the native oath was taken after kissing the ground - we proceeded up the river in hope of surprising the pirates and obtaining hostages for the return of the prisoners. Having started at night, we arrived at the place, pointed out by the Kabenda men, at dawn; and Lieutenant Jeffreys, with the armed boats of the ship, and accompanied by white interpreters and Kabenda men, started with orders to obtain redress for the outrage, or punish the tribe. The ship remained in the [PAGE 15] river opposite Sherwood Creek, up which the boats ascended. They had much further to go that was anticipated before they reached a village. They landed unexpectedly, and at first the natives seemed inclined to palaver. They were only gaining time for their women to escape to the bush with their household gods, and as soon as they calculated that was done, they themselves stampeded. Lieutenant Jeffreys tripped a chief up with his foot and held him as prisoner, but he forbade firing on the runaways, until he found his attempt at peaceful negociation [sic] entirely unavailing. This he shortly did, his hostage - the captive chief - making a sudden start between the legs of the too confident sentry and reaching his brethren in the bush in safety. Then, the sun getting high, and armed natives appearing in gathering force, other measures became necessary. Three villages were burned, the crops destroyed, a dozen canoes broken, and the expedition returned to the ship without a casualty. Quinine was served out, a good fresh meat dinner and a pint of beer each given to the men, and after a few hours rest they were as fresh as ever. I believe strict attention to diet and clothing is the great secret whereby men are kept in health on the coast.

     It is of course necessary to punish pirates, but I cannot say the mode we are obliged to take is satisfactory to me. Burning a native town is not to be compared to the burning a town in our country, the [PAGE 16] houses can be built up again in a few days, but still it is a severe measure; and as I gained experience on the coast I thought I saw the way to inaugurate a new system, more constant with our British principles and Christian name. We want a consul on this part of the coast, as we have in the Bights of Benin and Biafra, who not being a trader would be free from trade jealousies, and able to enter into relations with the more powerful of the river chiefs, who alone can stop piracy and other interferences with trade. It has been done elsewhere and can be done here. Unfortunately the Congo trade is chiefly in the hands of the Dutch, French, and Portuguese. An English consul would be looked upon with jealousy by them, but along the extent of coast from Ambriz to the Bights, English traders largely preponderate, and their trade is daily becoming more extensive and important.

     On the 10th of April [1872] we returned to Kabenda, and on the 14th the Rattlesnake arrived, and we received orders to go to Cape Coast Castle, calling at Corsico Bay and Fernando Po, and we sailed the next day. We kept close along shore, making slow progress under sail with light winds. The country was green and pretty all along, sometimes the hills in the interior rose to the dignity of mountains, until we approached Cape Lopez, when we came to the mangroves, and low-lying land again - near here the Nazareth, Camma, and other rivers, said by some to be connected with the [PAGE 17] Gaboon, debouch into the sea. North of the Gaboon the mountains appear again, and Corsico Bay is as lovely a spot as eye can rest upon. It is of considerable extent, perhaps 20 miles from north to south, and 15 miles deep from west to east. It is studded with islands, Corisco Island and numerous reefs off to sheltering the bay from seaward. Two large rivers, the Muni on the east, and the Moondah on the south side, enter it. The Elobey Islands are chosen as the trading station, and there is an American Missionary Station on Corisco Island.

     The Bay is situated in 1° North Latitude, the climate is pleasant, but they have rather more than the coast average of rain, and at this season are occasionally visited by a sharp tornado.

     The object of our visit was to enquire into circumstances connected with the loss of the Mail Steamer Macgregor Laird. She still remained on the rock on which she struck, about a mile from the North entrance to the bay, near Cape St. John. The natives have a somewhat Cornish idea of wrecks, and consider them “godsends” for their especial benefit. The cargo of the steamer just suited them. She was on her outward voyage, and full of the usual trade goods. Such good luck had never happened before and was never likely to happen again. The Captain and crew were glad to escape with their lives to Elobey, the former having previously sold ship and cargo to a speculative trader for £500. [PAGE 18] This gentlemen thought he had great interest with the natives, and telling them he would give them all that was in the forehold, he sat on the main hatch, and said what was beneath that, he should keep for himself. The natives agreed to this arrangement until the forehold was emptied, when they requested the patient speculator to move, and emptied the mainhold too. However, I expect he covered his first outlay by the ship’s furniture he recovered after the natives had finished.

     But retribution followed. The Spanish Government claim Corisco Bay as a dependency of Fernando Po. On the Governor hearing of the wreck he sent a gunboat, and one of our vessels, the Bittern, also appeared with the British Consul on board. The chiefs were summoned to restore the goods, and this not being complied with, every town and village in the vicinity was burnt, and the Corisco Islands condemned to pay a fine of 1,000 dollars. The amusing part of this business was that the fine was paid in goods stolen from the Macgregor Laird!

     Previous to this occurrence the Spaniards had not kept any officials in Corisco Bay, but now a boat was left at Elobey with four or five sailors, who were armed with percussion muskets, for which caps could not be obtained.

     We anchored near the Elobey Islands; the factories are on the smaller one, and no natives are allowed to [PAGE 19] live on the island, but they come there daily to trade. There are also some trade hulks at the entrance of the river Muni in a well sheltered and convenient position.

     My enquiry was relative to an attack upon the crew of the Macgregor Laird, after they had landed from the wreck; also into an outrage committed upon Dr. Walker, an agent for the company of African merchants, some months before.

     The first case was a simple one. One of the chip’s Kroomen had a dispute with a native woman. A small beginning had a serious ending, and the natives taking the woman’s part, took up their guns against the Kroomen, who joined their comrade; firing commenced, and the shot stuck some of the white men of the crew accidentally; the Krooman who commenced the quarrel was most to blame.

     Relative to Mr. Walker’s complaint some curious matter cropped up. It seems the crew of a Spanish gunboat landed under arms, to protect the Judge who was going to enquire into his complaint against a Chief. The natives got frightened, and thought they were going to be attacked, ran to the bush for their guns, which frightened the Spaniards; they bolted for their boats at once, and made off to their ship, the Captain sending Mr. Walker a message through a pilot, that if he wished, he would bombard the island, but he could not risk the men’s lives on the shore again! Mr. Walker politely declined the offer, as he and his fellow- [PAGE 20] countrymen would be the only sufferers by such a proceeding. The natives then tried to burn Mr. Walker’s house which with great difficulty he prevented. In escaping from the island at night he was nearly killed, and his cooper, who accompanied him, was mortally wounded. Mr. Walker had offended the natives in some matter of trade, and the attack upon him appeared to be a personal matter, and not against Europeans generally. One of the men who had attacked him, was a prisoner at Fernando Po for the offence, but the Spaniards had very little power to maintain order at this place, and had much better not attempt to do so. The trade is in dye woods and India rubber. A few sundries occasionally are offered, and there is every prospect of a large trade here when the Muni is opened up, and the interior reached by our merchants. All the coast tribes are brokers to the trade, they do not produce much themselves, but buy from those that do so, and pay in the goods they get from European merchants on credit. Of course these people object to our dealing directly with the tribes in the interior, for then their occupation will be gone, and from this cause come many little wars, and many of those difficulties which our guns are requested to settle.

     I was told a circumstance here that rather surprised me. In defence of his house, Mr. Walker wounded a chief. The tribe claimed blood money from all the [PHOTO: H.M.S. ‘Torch’ in a Tornado.] [PAGE 21] white traders on the island, as Mr. Walker had escaped; and it was paid. The fine amounted to some proud or two a-piece. It seems you may do almost anything to a native but draw his blood - chain him up, flog him, abuse him if he offends as much as you like, but don’t make his nose bleed!

     The canoes in this bay are the neatest made of any I have seen, and they go along at a great pace, they are often extremely small, just sufficiently buoyant to float a man.

     On our way to Fernando Po we encountered a very severe tornado. It gave the usual warning of its approach, and all sail was furled ere it struck us. First there were the heavy clouds to leeward, and lightning. Then the deep black arch, under which appeared a line of white foam a few minutes before it reached us, then the hissing noise as it came close, the shock and reel of the ship as it struck, and the crackling thunder, vivid lightning and deluge of rain, gradually growing less, until, in half-an-hour we were in fine weather again, and the air all the cooler for the squall.

     The scenery is lovely about Fernando Po. The island is only 20 miles distant from the main land, its highest point is 10,000 feet above the sea, and it is clad in magnificent trees nearly to the summit. Opposite, on the mainland, are the Cameroon mountains 14,000 feet high, the range extending far into the interior. [PAGE 22] The only town on Fernando Po is on the north side of the island. The Governor-General and his staff reside there. His Excellency is commander of the small vessel of war stationed here, and nearly all the officers of the island also belong to this ship. The town consists of about 50 houses, most of them built of wood and many in a dilapidated condition. It has seen better days. The island is capable of producing almost anything, but actually produces very little. Some very good cocoa is grown by a Spanish gentleman, but only on a limited scale, as an experiment.

     The natives are a very low type of humanity, the lowest I have ever seen. They are dreadfully dirty. They are not allowed to enter the town without some kind of clothing, which sometimes consists of a small apron, or even a pat of cow dung tied to their waists by a bit of string. They are useless as labourers, and Kroomen have to be imported for this purpose.

     It is possible to get a good long walk on a hard wide path, under the shade of the trees, which often rise to a great height and spread their branches over head in the kindest possible manner, but this can only be done in the morning and evening, the mid-day heat being intense. It is advisable for any person with a ship to go to, to sleep on board; those who live on shore are very subject to fever, and although coast fever is not usually of a character fatal to life, it is always trying to the temper and wearing to the constitution. Where- [PAGE 23] ever I paid a visit on the Coast, I always found the conversation in a very short time turn upon fever, and it was looked upon by many as a necessary evil which must come sooner or later. Some speak of it as our mothers do of the measles, and other ailments children are supposed to be the better for having early in life; if, they say, you get fever, after escaping from it for a year or two after coming to the country, so much the worse for you.

     One thing I am sure of, people who are always dosing themselves are the less able to bear the attack when it comes on. About quinine as a preventative, I am not sure. Our men used to take small doses, two grains morning and evening when in the rivers, and we had very little fever among them, and never lost a man; but it certainly affects the head, and is apt to induce deafness. A gentleman at Fernando Po told me he never took quinine, except when he felt fever coming on, when he took 20 grains, and was all right the next day.

     After coaling, we sailed on the 30th April [1872] for Cape Coast, touching at Jellah Coffee for supplies. We had light winds, with occasional tornadoes and showers of heavy rain on the passage; the water was smooth and there was not much current. From Cape Palmas to Fernando Po, the Guinea current runs almost constantly to the east in a line with the coast, and between Palmas and Cape St. Paul attains at times great velocity. The wind at the same time being south- [PAGE 24] westerly, it is very difficult for a ship under sail to get to the westward if she stays in shore; but a little further off is another current, the Equatorial, which runs counter to the Guinea current, only not with equal force. During this passage we found both wind and current out of their normal condition, and we reached Jellah Coffee in eight days under sail. We arrived at a fortunate moment. The homeward mail steamer was expected, and a dozen large canoes full of stock were in the roads waiting for her. They came on board of us as soon as we anchored, and marketing on a lively scale was soon going on in our gangways and forecastle. Permission having been given, there was a great rush to be first on board, and all were anxious to bring as much as possible with them. A dozen ducks tied by the legs in a bundle, balanced a dozen fowls, carried over the shoulder; a pig under the left arm, a basket of pea nuts or chillies in the mouth, and the right arm and feet alone free to scramble on board with. There was great excitement and jabbering when a pig and duck escaped into the sea and swam in different directions, - the owner sprang after them, but had no little trouble in catching them, especially piggy. Turkeys weighing six pounds to nine pounds, cost four shillings each. Chickens small, four shillings a dozen. Ducks ten shillings a dozen. Pine apples three-pence each. Yams, onions, chillies, cocoa nuts and pea-nuts cheap and plentiful, the little onions - shallots, being very good.

      [PAGE 25] Mr. August, an educated native, is a contractor to supply the navy with fresh beef, which he does at the rate of £2 5s. per bullock. The animals are small, averaging about one hundred pounds of beef, but the meat is good. Sheep and goats are to be had, but the former are comparatively dearer than bullocks. King Tay, an old friend of the English, is the chief over these people, and he has become rich form this provision trade. Jellah Coffee is close to the old English fort of Quittah, at present abandoned, although within the Gold Coast protectorate. It is situated on a low strip of sand, on which grow a few bushes, between the sea and a large lagoon in connection with the river Volta, and the numerous lakes which stretch along the coast to the westward towards Whydah; so that its water communication, with the more inland country is very great, and being a know market for all kinds of fresh stock, it finds its way there. The landing is not good, and I did not attempt it. There is nothing to be seen to invite one to risk a wetting, except a comfortable looking German factory built close to our ruined fort at Quittah.


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