Excursion to St. Anne de Chaves—Mode of drying Coffee—Black Priests—Madame Domingo's Hotel—Catering for the Mess—Man swallowed by a Shark—Letters from Home—Fashionable Equipage—Arrival at the Gaboon—King Glass and Louis Philippe—Mr. Griswold—Mr. and Mrs. Wilson—Character of the Gaboon People—Symptoms of Illness.

May 22.—I have just returned from an excursion to St. Anne de Chaves, the capital of St. Thomas. Leaving the ship, yesterday, at 9 A.M., we landed, but did not find the horses which had been ordered from the city. Deeming it unadvisable to wait, three of the party started on foot, and two in the "gig" (not the land-vehicle of that name), which was to proceed on the same destination. After walking three or four miles along the beach, we met two of the six horses expected. These served to mount a pair of us, while the third, with the guide and boys, proceeded on foot; it being arranged that we should travel in the old-fashioned mode of "ride and tie." Most of the distance was across open land, without a tree or shrub, but overgrown with coarse, high grass. The whole appearance was that of a western prairie, but without the grandeur of its extent, or the flowers that attract the traveller, when wearied with the immensity of prospect. The soil, like that of the cocoa-nut groves, is a black, deep, fertile loam.

In two hours, we arrived at St. Anne de Chaves. The town is spread out upon the circular shore of the bay, nearly half a mile in extent, and is defended by a stone fort, situated on the extreme point of the cape. There are three or four hundred houses, which, with few exceptions, are small, and constructed of wood. A long stone building is appropriated as the residence of the governor, and contains the public offices. The only remarkable edifices besides, are a large wooden church, looking very like a barn, and a smaller one of stone. The streets are unpaved, but kept remarkably clean, and not without an especial reason. The great, and almost only, article of commerce is coffee, which is kept in the houses, and dried daily in the streets. As soon as the sun is up, therefore, servants sweep the streets, as carefully as if it were a parlor-floor, and bring out large quantities of coffee, which they spread upon the ground to dry. At night, it is carried in. More than half the street, at the proper season, is covered with coffee yet in the husk. The exports of this article amount annually to about a million of pounds, producing from seventy to eighty thousand dollars. The only whites residing on the island, with one exception, are about sixty Portuguese; the number of colored inhabitants is estimated at fifteen thousand.

Black priests are plenty in the streets, walking about in bombazine robes, with the crisp hair shaven from their crowns. The Jesuits invariably followed hard upon the heels of the early Portuguese adventurers, in their African discoveries; but I am not aware that their efforts to Catholicise the natives have anywhere produced such permanent results, as in this island. To be sure, the religion of the inhabitants seems to amount to little more than the practice of a few external rites; for they have both the appearance and character of dishonesty and treachery, and are said to be addicted to all sorts of vice. So far as the black priests possess any influence, however, it is believed to be used conscientiously, and with excellent effect; nor, though provoked to smile at these queer specimens of the cloth, could I indulge the impulse without being self-convicted of narrowness and illiberally. St. Augustine, and other Fathers of the church, if I have heard aright, were of the same sable hue as the priests of St. Anne de Chaves.

The currency of the island is wretched. Coppers are the sole coin in use, in all domestic transactions, and pass at ten times their intrinsic value. They are said to be introduced mainly by the American merchantmen, who do most of the trade with the island.

The foreign business is chiefly transacted by Mr. Lippitt, a Hamburgh merchant, at whose house we were hospitably received. He set his best fare before us; and some of the party not only ate at his table, but slept beneath his roof. The others took lodgings at the house of Madam Domingo, a fat black lady, whose first husband, a merchant of considerable business, had left her a large mansion, several slaves, some children, and other desirable property. A young, dandy-looking negro succeeded to the vacant place in her house and heart, and now does the honors of the establishment. The largest room had a singular aspect of familiarity to our eyes; its walls being adorned with prints of American origin, among which were portraits of all the Presidents of the United States, previous to General Harrison. These, perhaps, were the gift of some merchant-captain to his hospitable landlady; or, more probably, they had been hung up in compliment to the national sensibilities of Madam Domingo's most frequent guests. Tawdry mirrors and chandeliers completed the decoration of the apartment. A supper of coffee and hard-boiled eggs, beds harder than the eggs, and a bill equally difficult of digestion, comprise all that is further to be said of the fashionable hotel of St. Anne de Chaves. After a good breakfast with our Hamburgh friend, we all embarked in the gig, and, spreading our canvass to the breeze, reached the ship in an hour and ten minutes.

23.—Ashore with the caterer of the mess, marketing for sea-stores; a difficult task among a set of people who, though poor, care little about making a profit by selling what they have. Many of them would not take money, requiring in payment some article of clothing, especially shirts, or, as the next grand desideratum, trowsers. By careful research among the small plantations we were able to pick up a few goats, pigs, and fowls, and came off with materials to keep the mess in good humor for at least ten days. None but sea-faring men can appreciate the great truth, that amiability is an affair of the stomach, and that the disposition depends upon the dinner.

We found the soil very fertile. Groves of cocoa-nuts cover many acres together. Beneath the shade, coffee trees were in full bearing; and bananas, plantains, and corn, flourished luxuriantly. The people are all blacks, speak Portuguese, and—a circumstance that affords the voyager an agreeable variety, after seeing so much nakedness—wear clothes. Their habitations are scattered among the trees. It is usual to have one house for rainy weather, for sleeping, and for storage, and another as a kitchen, and for occupation during the day. The first is close, the other has merely corner-posts, supporting a roof sufficiently light to make a shade.

Part of the day was spent in picking up shells upon the shore. Occasionally, I unhoused a "soldier-crab," who had taken up free quarters in some unoccupied cone, and became so delighted with its shelter as never to move without dragging it at his heels along the sand.

24.—6 P.M., a horrid accident has just occurred. As the gig was coming alongside, under sail, the tiller broke, and the coxswain who was steering, fell overboard. He was a good swimmer, and struck out for the ship, not thirty yards distant, while the boat fell off rapidly to the leeward. In less than half a minute, a monstrous shark rose to the surface, seized the poor fellow by the body, and carried him instantly under. Two hundred men were looking on, without the power to afford assistance. We beheld the water stained with crimson for many yards around—but the victim was seen no more! Once only, a few seconds after his disappearance, the monster rose again to the surface, displaying a length of well nigh twenty feet, and then his immense tail above the water, as if in triumph and derision. It was like something preternatural; and terribly powerful he must have been, to take under so easily, and swallow, in a moment, one of the largest and most athletic men in the ship. Poor Ned Martin!

25.—Again visited the town, where we found an American brig, the Vintage of Salem, Captain Frye. She is from the South Coast, homeward bound, with a cargo of gum copal. The Captain had some letters for the squadron, which were now eleven months old. My own gave an account of the President's visit to Boston, the Bunker Hill Celebration, and other events of that antediluvian date. Epistolary communication is, at the best, a kind of humbug. What was new and true, when written, has become trite and false, before it can be read. It assures of nothing—not even of the existence of the writer; for his hand may have grown cold, since the characters which it traced began their weary voyage in quest of us; and all of which we can be absolutely certain is, that many unexpected events have happened, and many expected ones have failed to happen, betwixt the sealing of the letter and the unfolding it again. Until the ocean be converted into an electric telegraph, through which intelligence will thrill in an instant, there can be no real communication between the sailor and his far-off friends. And yet, after all, how pleasant it is to write letters!—how much pleasanter to receive them! I acknowledged the receipt of these musty epistles, by the same vessel that conveyed them to me.

I have seen but one equipage in the capital of St. Thomas, but that was a sufficiently remarkable one; a small, three-wheeled vehicle, like a velocipede, with a phaeton-top to it. Drawn by two negroes, and pushed by three, it rolled briskly to the door of the church, and there deposited a plump and youthful dame, as black as ebony. From the deference shown her by the priests, I inferred that it was my good fortune to behold the leading belle of St. Anne de Chaves.

After dining with Mr. Lippitt, we returned to the boats, and got safely on shipboard before dark. My impressions of St. Thomas and its delightful climate are highly favorable. A visit to an island has generally more of interest and amusement than one to a spot on the continent, because the secluded position of the inhabitants imparts an originality and raciness to their modes of life.

27.—Got under way yesterday morning for the Gaboon. Today the wind has been favorable, and we are now at anchor for the night, off the mouth of the river, five miles from land.

28.—At 4 P.M., anchored within three miles of the missionary establishment. Mr. Bushnell took his leave, respected by us all, as a pious, unpretending, sensible, and amiable man.

29.—Ashore. We found our friends well, and glad to see us. They are comfortably situated in large houses, made of bamboos, and thatched with the bamboo-leaves sewed together. These present an airy, cool, and light appearance, highly suitable to a tropical region, and yet are impervious to rain.

We visited the house of King Glass, where several of the chiefs assembled to talk a palaver. They are apprehensive of difficulties with the French, and wish the English and Americans to interpose. According to their story, the commandant of a French fort, three miles distant, had attempted, a short time ago, to procure a cession of their territory. This they constantly refused, declaring their intention to keep the country open for trade with all nations, and allow exclusive advantages to none. After several trials, the commandant apparently relinquished his purpose. A French merchant-captain now appeared, who ingratiated himself into the favor of the simple King Glass, invited him to a supper, and made his majesty and the head-man drunk. While in this condition, he procured the signatures of the King and two or three chiefs to a paper, which he declared to be merely a declaration of friendship towards the French, but which proved to be a cession of certain rights of jurisdiction. Next morning, the French fired a salute of twenty-one guns in honor of the treaty between Louis Philippe and King Glass, and sent presents which the natives refused to receive. They now apprehend a forcible seizure of their territory by the French, and desire our interposition, as calculated to prevent such a national calamity. Our captain, however, declined to interfere, or to express any opinion in the premises, on the ground that it was not his province to judge of such matters abroad, unless the interests of Americans were involved.

The missionaries have perhaps some agency in this movement. They see the probability that the Catholic priests will follow them to the Gaboon, and subvert their influence with the natives.

31.—In the morning I visited Mr. Griswold's place, about two miles from Baracca, the residence of Mr. Wilson. The former establishment was commenced only eight months ago; and already there are two buildings finished, and two more nearly so, all of bamboo. The ground is more fertile than that occupied by Mr. Wilson, and has been brought thus seasonably into a good state of cultivation. Mr. Griswold is a Vermonter, a practical farmer, and an energetic man, and doubtless turns his agricultural experience to good account, great as is the difference between the bleak hills of New England, and this equatorial region. His lady, an interesting woman, is just recovering from fever.

After an agreeable visit, we returned to the ship, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Griswold, and there found Mr. Wilson and lady, and Mr. James and his daughter. They all dined and spent the day on board. Mr. Wilson is well known in America by reputation, and is one of the most able and judicious among the three hundred missionaries, whom the American Board sends forth throughout the world. Here at Gaboon, he preaches to the natives in their own language, which he represents as being very soft, and easy of acquirement. The people frequent divine services with great regularity, and are at least attentive listeners, if not edified by what they hear. Mrs. Wilson is a lady of remarkable zeal and energy. Reared in luxury, in a Southern city, she liberated her slaves, gave up a handsome fortune to the uses of missions, and devoted herself to the same great cause, in that region of the earth where her faith and fortitude were likely to be most severely tried. It is now six years since she came to Africa; and she has never faltered for a moment. Having had the good fortune, on a former cruise, to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Wilson, at Cape Palmas, I was happy to renew it here. I have seldom met with a person so well fitted to adorn society, and never with one in whose high motives of action and genuine piety I had more confidence.

The natives at the Gaboon, to whom these excellent people are sacrificing themselves, are said to present more favorable points of character than those in most other parts of Africa. They are mild in their manners, friendly to Europeans and Americans, and disposed to imitate them in dress and customs. They own many slaves among themselves, but treat them with singular gentleness, and never sell them to foreigners. They are very indolent, and make no adequate improvement of their advantages for agriculture and trade. Their country is excellent for grazing, and the cattle of the best kind; but they take so little forethought as to sell even the last cow, should a purchaser offer. Consequently, there are hardly more than thirty cattle left in a tract of country capable, in its present state, of sustaining a thousand.

King Glass is an old man, much inclined to drink, yet more regular than any of his subjects in attendance at church. Toko, a headman, is very shrewd and intelligent, and highly spoken of by Mr. Wilson, in reference to his moral qualities. Will Glass, nephew to the King, is blessed with a couple of dozen wives, and seldom moves without a train of five or six of them in attendance. He paid a visit to our ship in a full-dress English uniform, said to have cost three hundred dollars. On the other side of the river lives King Will, a great man, and with the reputation of a polished gentleman. The slave-trade is carried on in this King's dominions; and, while I write, a Spanish slaver lies at anchor off his town, waiting for her human cargo.

June 1.—Got under way, and went down the river about three miles, when, the wind failing, we anchored. At 3 P.M., we started again, and stood out to sea. Mr. Wilson accompanied us to the mouth of the river, and there left us, bearing back our hearty good wishes for his personal prosperity and that of the mission.

2.—At 12, meridian, we have made the run to the island of St. Thomas, and are now about fifteen miles to the northward of it.

3.—The wind is still sufficiently fresh and fair to enable us to make seven knots westing; the great desideratum. Four months we have been running away from our letters; and now we go to meet them. Blow, breezes, blow, and waft us swiftly onward!

4.—A continuance of favorable winds. I am not well to-day. Slight headache, and heaviness of feeling—no great matter—but these are ominous symptoms, on the coast of Africa.

5.—One year since we left America; a year not without incident and interest. We are still on the first parallel of north latitude, and going nine. I am under the surgeon's hands, apprehending a fever, but hoping to throw it off.

6.—We have made two hundred and twenty miles within the last twenty-four hours; and still the breeze does not slacken. Much better in health. Bless the man who first invented Doctors!