“I told you in my last, that
the sickly season had commenced with the 84th regiment at Fort Augusta. Six
officers of this regiment have died, and about one hundred and thirty men. The
fever increased so rapidly, that the government here was under the necessity of
ordering them up an once to encamp at Stony-Hill, leaving all the sick behind
them. They were put under canvas; unfortunately, the third day after they went
up a terrible hurricane took place, with a whole day of heavy rain. Their tents
were blown down. This mischief hastened the death of many of the men, and the
next day thirteen were buried at Stony-Hill, and three at Fort
Augusta—being, in one day, sixteen deaths in one regiment. They were
thrown into their graves without coffins, as there was no time to make them.
All the sick of this regiment are left behind at Fort Augusta, except a few who
have survived, and have been sent up
| APPENDIX | 439 |
“The fever has begun in this camp among the 33rd, and with the detachment of Artillery, in the 22nd and in ft company of the 94th, and of late three or four have died daily. While I now write, I see a corpse carried by four black pioneers, and six soldiers following it to the grave. Within the last month forty have died in this camp. As the fever is daily increasing, the detachment of the 22nd will march on Monday, and the remaining company of the 84th goes to-morrow, in order to give room.—I said one coffin, as they come nearer I see there are two.
“The sickness is not in any way severe among the
natives; and as for the blacks, they are seldom affected with fever. This
reminds me of the remark of Sterne,
‘God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.’ . . . At this
moment four medical men are absent from the island, who ought to be present;
and besides this, while I now write, five medical officers lie sick. You may
conceive the duty which we, who by the blessing of God remain well, have to
perform. . . . There are only
| 440 | APPENDIX |
“The weather is hot, but by no means so hot as it is
close and sultry. The thermometer is between 84° and 87° in the
shade. The air is hazy and foggy, just like a sirocco. The mornings and
evenings are beautiful, and the country looks so still, so pleasing, and fresh,
that it excites one’s surprise to think of the contrast of quiet and
beauty which it exhibits, with the misery, wretchedness, sickness, and death,
which prevail among the inhabitants. You will rejoice with me, and render
thanks unto God for his mercy in preserving me in such perfect health. It is of
his mercy that I am spared. . . . So confident do I feel, that I have a sort of
excitement and astonishment at the scenes which I witness: and, though I
endeavour to keep my mind serious, and grave, and sober, and take warning by
the judgments of God that are displayed before my eyes, yet at times I cannot
extinguish the exulting and confident feeling that I am one to whom God will
abundantly shew his mercy and compassion. These considerations make me more
active in endeavouring to alleviate the sufferings of the sick.
| APPENDIX | 441 |
“. . . The only inconvenience I feel is, that from walking so much in the sun, and from the fatigue of the duty, my head beats at night as though I were in a fever. I am long before I can get to sleep. However, thank God, I always rise with a grateful heart, very fresh, to the labours of the day.”
