Agreeably to orders from the navy department, the commander of the Peacock was required to proceed to the west coast of Sumatra, to ascertain whether Commodore Downes had obtained redress for the murders and robbery committed on board the ship Friendship, of Salem, by the natives of Qualah Battu; and if it should appear that from any cause such redress had not been effected, then the Peacock, in conjunction with the United States’ schooner Boxer, was to proceed to Qualah Battu, and, if possible, to obtain possession of the murderers, and transport them to the United States for trial; and also to demand indemnification for the heavy losses sustained by the owner. If these demands were not complied with, the town was to be destroyed.

The Boxer not having yet joined us, orders were left for her commander to proceed to Bencoolen, in the island of Sumatra. On the evening of the twenty-fifth of June, the ship got under way, from the bay of Montevideo. As we slowly receded from the port, the feeble light on the mount shone like a distant star through the hazy atmosphere; and the thousand lights in the unfortunate town of San FelipÉ appeared like the glimmerings of the firefly in a midsummer’s night, revelling amid the light vapours arising from marshy ground; the brilliant light on the Flores also was in full view, throwing its extended beams far and wide over the tremulous sea. Our progress during the night was very slow—Flores and Lobos, and the serrated mountains of Maldonado, found us at the dawn of day, fanning along slowly, with an air which scarcely ruffled the ocean’s surface. Nothing occurred to us beyond what generally befalls the sons of the ocean, in running down ten thousand miles of coasting. Scarcely were we clear from the muddy waters of La Plata, and had launched amid the waves of the great Southern ocean, when squally weather assailed us, and close-reefed topsails were resorted to rather more frequently than is pleasant even to those who live upon the mountain-wave. The ship was at one time rolling her channels in before a strong westerly wind; at another, lying with her broadside deeply submerged by severe squalls from the northwestern quarter, the gun-deck being ankle-deep in water, and washing from side to side. Life-lines were secured from gun to gun to support the constant passing of men fore and aft the deck. On the fifteenth of July, the snow-clad mountains of Tristan d’Acunha appeared, lighted by a brilliant morning-sun, and towering to a height estimated at between nine and ten thousand feet.

This island is occasionally resorted to for water, live stock, fruit, vegetables, butter, &c.; the former may be had in abundance on the northeast side, where, in a clear day, it may be seen rushing from above, white as the snow on the mountain-top, and dashing on the beach, from a cataract of fifty feet in height. Owing to the steepness of the anchorage-ground and the frequency of sudden squalls, it is most safe “to lay off and on,” and send a boat on shore. Vessels which prefer anchoring, run in until the watering-place bears southwest by south, about one mile distant, where they find seventeen fathoms, in a gravelly bottom, mixed with broken shells.

This place was originally settled in 1811, by the unfortunate Jonathan Lambert, of Salem, who was drowned in going to Inaccessible island. It has ever since been occupied by an English sergeant and family, from the Cape of Good Hope, by order of the British government, who took possession of it, as was said, with the ostensible motive of keeping it as an outpost to St. Helena, at the time of Bonaparte’s imprisonment there.

It may be doubted whether a desire to prevent the Americans from resorting to the island, as a place of rendezvous in the event of another war, was not the real motive which actuated the British to take it within their protection.

On the nineteenth, having then been out twenty-three days, we obtained soundings in sixty fathoms water, on bank Lagullus, off the Cape of Good Hope. Dashing onward through storm and tempest, endeavouring to keep about latitude 38° or 39°, on the sixth of August, forty-one days from our departure from the bay of Montevideo, we descried on the northeast the uninhabited island of St. Pauls. As we approached from the southward and westward, it bore the exact resemblance of a long-nosed porpoise; but when passing its eastern extremity, and bearing off about four miles north, it appeared like a spermaceti whale, the head being to the eastward: fronting it was a moderately-high conical peak: its highest point would scarcely exceed five hundred feet. Three or four days subsequently, we encountered a very heavy gale from northnortheast, accompanied by a tremendous swell of the ocean; during its violence, a sea of uncommon height and volume struck the ship, and threw her nearly on her beam ends, completely overwhelmed the gig in the starboard-quarter, crushed it into atoms in a moment, and buried the first three ratlines of the mizen-shrouds under water.

It was fortunate that we escaped without further danger, as it came thundering onward “mountains high.” A universal silence prevailed during its threatening approach: after it had passed, great apprehensions were expressed that it would “break on board,” and completely sweep the deck.

As we proceeded along and gradually made northings from longitude about 90° east, the winds began to be variable and the weather warm; greatcoats and peajackets disappeared from among the crew, and finally white duck trousers and shirts were alone seen. The southeast tradewind did not unequivocally set in until we had arrived in the latitude of 16°, and longitude 102°.

On the twenty-third of August we made the island of Engano, the southernmost of the chain of islands which runs parallel with the west coast of Sumatra, and which is inhabited by a vile race. From Engano, the winds were very light and variable from the southeast, accompanied with lightning, thunder, and rain, till the twenty-eighth, when we anchored in the bay of Bencoolen; about midway between the Ratones or Rat island and the point on which the Doosoon, or village of Bencoolen or Marlborough is situated, and about three and a half miles from either place.

This settlement was ceded by the English to the Dutch government, with all the British possessions in Sumatra, by the treaty of the Netherlands in 1824, in exchange for Malacca and the claims of the Dutch to the island of Singapore. Rat island basin is resorted to by vessels intending to remain some time, more particularly during the prevalence of the northwest gales from October to March; but coasting craft always resort there during the southeast winds, which last through the other half of the year.

A boat, with acting Lieutenant Sinclair, was despatched to the town, and in a short time a very polite invitation was received from J. H. Knoerle, Esq., the Dutch resident, to breakfast with him the next morning, and to Captain G. and myself to reside with him during the ship’s stay. By this boat we heard of the entire destruction of Qualah Battu, by the Potomac, which happily precluded the necessity of an unpleasant visit, and saved the officers and crew the painful duty which would otherwise have devolved on the Peacock. The demolition of this place struck terror into the inhabitants of all the native ports on the coast, and will doubtless produce a salutary effect.

In the afternoon, we took a boat, and landed at Rat island. Two acres of dry land would cover it; the coral reefs, which extend northward and southward, are very extensive and dangerous. The island contains four or five wretched huts, including a stone building now in a state of much dilapidation, and a godown or magazine at the building, which is open at the sides. In heavy westerly gales, the spray of the sea breaks over this speck in the ocean. Fish is the chief food of the inhabitants. The teeth of these islanders (possessed by few of them) are of a deep black colour, and show that they are frequently employed in chewing areca, &c. The chief man, called Rajah Mundo, is a Malay, about seventy years of age, but still active and healthy, with features so brown and deeply furrowed as to resemble a piece of soleleather. When we entered his abode, a stone building, it reminded me of Hogarth’s picture of the last day, when every thing has fallen into decay. The steps were nearly all broken down; one of the two wooden pillars which supported the portico was decayed, and had fallen; the roof was gone, and the walls were falling; two half-starved monkeys stood as sentries, at the door, having something which was intended as an apology for a tail. The other articles of furniture in this abode consisted of two Chama gigas, or the great giant clams, the root of a tree for seats, two broken earthen pots for cooking, and a joint of bamboo instead of a water-bucket, which latter served likewise the purpose of a drinking-vessel, as we found in asking for some water. The floor, apparently, had never been washed; the ceiling was of coal-black; and centipedes, lizards, and snails, were crawling in every direction over the walls. In the only dry corner, lay a sick daughter, between two mats; but the mother of the rajah formed the consummation of this dreadful picture: at the back door stood what I suppose must be called a human being. We started back in amazement on seeing this frightful object, thinking her to be deranged; the horror of Macbeth, on seeing his chair occupied in the banquet-scene, by the ghost of the murdered Banquo, could not have been surpassed by our own on this occasion. The words of the royal thane rushed upon my memory, and I instinctively uttered—

The only article of dress on this singular being was a filthy, ragged waist-cloth, apparently covered with vermin, from the belt of which was suspended a long knife; her gray elf-locks scattered by the wind—her eyes running with rheum—her face and hands covered with dirt—her body loathsome with leprous spots; contrasted with her dark Malay skin, gave her a truly hideous appearance; added to this, a solitary long black tooth projected over her under lip, and her trembling and attenuated frame displayed the influence of that baneful narcotic, opium, to which she was addicted. Wretchedness could not portray a more faithful picture: imagination had nothing to conceive. We gladly left this loathsome habitation, upon a ramble about the coral reefs for shells, and shortly embarked for the ship, rejoiced at being removed from a horrid object, which long after haunted my imagination by night and day. I have since learned that she is a fiend in human shape, living by means the most diabolical.

The next morning we landed at Bencoolen, and found in waiting a neat carriage, in which we were conveyed into a handsome park, and subsequently to the government-house. Here we were received, at the lower end of a long staircase, by the resident, and ushered up stairs into the great hall, through two lines of soldiers, as fierce in appearance as were ever exhibited on a stage: they consisted of Malays, Sumatrans, and Javanese, from Neas and Borneo, and from the bay of Bengal, turbaned, whiskered and mustachoed, and in some cases furnished with long beards, armed with swords, the cris or crooked dagger, pistols and muskets.

A most substantial breakfast was quickly served in great variety, and placed in the verandah, for the benefit of the air. With a cloudless sky above, the most beautiful scenery surrounding us, and a hospitable reception, we had nothing more to desire. The government house is situated in a park, embosomed in flowers, fruit, and forest-trees, guarded by line hedges and a neat bamboo fence. The road around the grounds was lined with the male and female nutmeg-trees, the clove-tree, and the graceful areca-palm, laden with its yellow fruit, hanging in large clusters under the branches. Here and there were interspersed beautiful flowering trees in great variety, and creeping plants intertwined among the branches. The female nutmeg was loaded with fruit resembling, in colour, a straw-coloured peach, but pointed slightly towards the stalk, like a pear. The fruit which had become ripe, had burst about half an inch of its outer-covering, and displayed a beautiful network of scarlet mace, covering a black shining hard thick shell, in which lay concealed the nutmeg itself. The bark of the nutmeg-tree is smooth, and of a brownish-gray colour; the branches are handsome and spreading; the leaves, elliptical and pointed, afford a very grateful aromatic odour: on the same tree may be seen the fruit in its progressive stages to maturity, and the white blossoms hanging in clusters, encircled by the yellow leaves from which they have burst. From the centre of the flower proceeds an oblong reddish knob, which is the fruit. I was told that a tree which produces, daily, throughout the year, one nutmeg, is considered very productive and profitable, even at the present low prices. At the Dutch company’s late sales, they brought from fifty-two to fifty-six dollars the pecul, equal to one hundred and thirty-three and one third pounds avoirdupois; and the mace, from ninety-two to ninety-five dollars. The male nutmeg-tree, being necessary to the propagation of the fruit, cannot be dispensed with; it is generally filled with white blossoms, and interspersed among its female companions. The operation of loosening the inner shell of the nutmeg is a tedious process, and is performed over a slow fire; when the shells are sufficiently loose to rattle they are broken, assorted, soaked several times in water and lime—then placed in dry boxes or small rooms to sweat; and finally, are packed in dry chunana or lime made from seashells. The small and oblong fruit is not merchantable; the best kind is large, round, heavy and firm, of a lightish-gray colour on the outside; a strong fragrant smell; and when pricked, the oil should readily ooze out.

Very extensive plantations of this great article in commerce, are in the vicinity of Bencoolen. Those which belong to the Dutch government are twelve miles distant, on a fine road extending towards the mountains, about one hundred miles long. I visited some Parsees, who were busily employed in curing nutmegs and mace. Large quantities of the latter were spread on mats, exposed to the sun, where they remain to dry, from six to ten, and from four to six o’clock. The extreme heat of the day dries them too much and renders them brittle and deficient in fragrance; if placed in too moist an air they are subject to decay and will breed worms; they should be chosen fresh, tough, oleaginous, of an extremely fragrant smell and of a bright reddish-yellow. The rind of the nutmeg when not too dry, is preserved in sirup and the entire fruit, when nearly ripe, made into a delicious and ornamental sweetmeat; it is cut part of the way down, at regular intervals and fancifully ornamented by neat scollops, peaks, and leaves, showing at one view the straw-coloured outer-covering, the scarlet mace, and the inner black shell, covering the nucleus of the whole, the nutmeg.

Pepper, another article of export to a great extent, is cultivated throughout the island. It is propagated by cuttings or layers, as we raise grape-vines: if suffered to trail on the ground, it produces no fruit, and support is consequently necessary: it climbs from twelve to twenty feet high: the blossom is white; the berries, when at maturity, are red and much resemble branches of red currants. In a favourable season it produces two crops.

The only fortification which Bencoolen possesses, is at Fort Marlborough—it is in excellent order, and situated but a short distance from the landing-place. There are not more than fifty or sixty Dutch soldiers in the place. The town is built on a point of land named Onjong Carang: it is of moderate elevation—falls back into low swampy ground, and is at times severely visited by that fatal disease, the jungle fever: the liver complaint is also very general. Bencoolen and the ten doosoons or villages, contain about eighteen thousand inhabitants, consisting of a few Dutch, some of the descendants of Englishmen, who speak the English language—Chinese, Javanese, Bengalees, Parsees, Sumatrans, Malays, &c. The Chinese occupy an enclosure in the centre of the town, and have a Budhist or temple: they bear the same characteristic marks here as elsewhere, being industrious, frugal, and thrifty. Each doosoon is governed by a rajah, who is chosen from among themselves, and if approved by the residents, he cannot lose his office during life, unless for the commission of some flagrant crime. The residents and a certain number of Rajahs form a court for the trial of all cases requiring legal investigation. If a criminal is condemned to suffer death, a copy of the trial is sent to the governor-general of Java, and if approved by him, the sentence is carried into execution. It is degrading to humanity to see the abject air with which the resident is addressed by the lower order of Sumatrans. They stand, when they enter his presence, with an aspect of humble submission: their bodies are bent—the palms of their hands are seen resting on their knees, and fear is strangely marked on their countenances.

The Dutch Government has two schools here—they are conducted upon the Lancasterian plan; the first, which is kept in an outer room of the government-house, contains about twenty-five scholars. The pupils were learning arithmetic, to write on sand, and to read from certain portions of the New Testament printed in the Malayan language. The translation was made and published, many years since, at the expense of the pious and well-known philanthropist, Robert Boyle, when the place was under the jurisdiction of the British Government, and was sent forth into various parts of the island. The second school is in the orphan-house, about a mile from the resident, on a piece of high ground sloping towards the bay, of which it has a fine view: in front of this building are several acres of land, substantially walled in with brick, and covered with fruit-trees and vegetables. The boys are educated in this school for agents, writers, &c. The principal articles of export from Bencoolen, to which may be added Trippany or Bichos do Mar, and some edible bird’s-nests, have already been named. Coffee and rice are raised here only in small quantities; they are imported from Padang for home-consumption, and consequently are not articles for export.

All the fruits common to tropical climates, and many which I am assured are not known in any other part of India, flourish here in great abundance. The animal used for domestic labour is the carbou, called here carboo: he resembles the buffalo without any hump between the fore-shoulders: although naturally of a dull, obstinate and capricious nature, he acquires a habit of surprising docility; at the command of his master, he lifts the shafts of the cart with his horns, places the half yoke (which is secured at the end) across his neck, and then stands quietly until he is secured.

I have several times been amused to see three or four children climbing on his neck, and seating themselves on his back, to take a ride. He was easily governed, after they were seated, by a rope which passed through the cartilage of the nose. He is a stout-built and strong animal, but cannot endure much fatigue, and has shorter legs and larger hoofs than the ox, with a thick sinewy neck. The horns of this animal are very large and generally turn backward, being nearly square at the base. Like the hog, he is fond of wallowing in the mire, and embraces every opportunity to cover himself with it—being thus cooled and protected from the heat of the sun, and from troublesome insects.

The bay of Bencoolen is extensive, and so much exposed that, when the sea-breeze commences, it throws in a heavy sea, and renders it impossible to carry off sufficient water for a large number of hands without causing a long delay. Owing to this cause, we were unable readily to obtain the required supply of water; and yams and bread-fruit being scarce, both of which we much needed, we took our departure, leaving instructions for the “Boxer” to follow us to Manila.

Having taken leave of the very kind and hospitable Mr. Knoerle, the resident, and of his companion, the Rev. W. C. Slingerland Conradi, pastor of the Dutch Church, I shortly found myself once more on board. I have lately received the afflicting intelligence that Mr. Knoerle, while on a journey to Palembang, was murdered at the instigation of some of the principal rajahs of Bencoolen. His body was literally cut in pieces, and then burnt with great exultation, by the perpetrators and their friends. The question naturally occurs, what could have incited the rajahs to commit so atrocious and fiend-like an act? The answer is—revenge, which is always deeply seated in the heart of a Malay.

Mr. Knoerle, imprudently, injured the happiness of many families by his unrestrained passions, and thereby sealed his horrid fate. He should ever have borne in mind that he lived among