1832.] Notes on America. 641 



the day I landed there, as if it were but yesterday. The yellow fever was 

 raging, and as we sailed up the bay, and neared the wharf, the appearance 

 of every thing was black and desolate no hearty greeting, so welcome 

 after a voyage no boats full of anxious expectants of northern news 

 and northern friends (for we had sailed from New York) all was silent 

 and dismal. The shore was lined by mourners, " clad in the dark livery 

 of woe," and dreading the enquiries to which such sorrowful replies must 

 needs be given. We appeared like a cargo of condemned wretches, sent, 

 like the Roman criminals, to perish in the Pontine marshes. Even the 

 negroes forgot to chuckle with their usual recklessness of life or death, as 

 they advised " Massa to take him care ob de yelly feber." I walked from 

 the wharf across the fine street called the Bay, along Broad Street, into 

 King Street, that is to say through the principal part of the city, and did 

 not encounter a living creature, man or beast. Scarcely a store was 

 open, and the dwelling houses appeared to be nearly all tenaritless. The 

 master of the inn to which I had been directed, informed me, that two of 

 his children had fallen victims to the pestilence the week previous ; and 

 another person mentioned, with an expression of countenance that 

 denoted something between dogged indifference and sullen resignation, 

 that his father also had died that morning. I found afterwards that my 

 informant was a kind-hearted and estimable man, but the familiar sight of 

 suffering and death had stifled his better feelings, and rendered him for the 

 time impious and morose. I was advised to secure a nurse in time, as 

 the chance of escape for a foreigner, not acclimatured, was small indeed. 

 All this was terrible enough, and I heartily wished that my better genius 

 had kept me out of this city of the plague. Unfortunately, too, I had 

 read Boccaccio, De Foe, and Wilson. My imagination, therefore, was 

 abundantly stored with food for unpleasing meditation. The fact was, 

 that we had been misinformed as to the sariitary state of the country, 

 having been assured, that a black frost had already purified the polluted 

 atmosphere, which was not the case till some days subsequent to our 

 arrival. Then, however, an immediate change took place in all around. 

 The houses in Sullivan* s Island (which is a long beach of white sand, 

 devoid of vegetation, and lying on the side of the harbour opposite to the 

 city) were soon deserted. Hundreds of long boats, laden with furniture 

 and negroes, were seen lazily crossing the bay. The streets were 

 speedily crowded by a busy population of all colours, whose present 

 gaiety was evidently augmented by the depression of spirits, under which 

 all had so recently laboured. 



A stranger, entering Charleston for the first time by moonlight, would 

 be struck by the romantic solitude of its appearance. The negroes are 

 all locked up by ten o'clock, and the city guard of soldiers traverse the 

 streets with noiseless vigilance. The fine old church of St. Michael, the 

 exchange, and post office, at the foot of Broad Street, and the patrician 

 residences which overlook the beautiful bay, give to Charleston the sem- 

 blance of some old, half deserted, Italian city, while its sparkling southern 

 atmosphere is not unworthy of comparison with the clearest and mildest 

 sky, which lends a principal charm to the land of love, and painting, and 

 poetry. 



Charleston does not appear to have reaped much advantage from the 

 revolution. There is scarcely a building of any size or importance which 

 was not erected under the old dominion. It was a favourite residence of 



