Caryl Phillips: Crossing the River

Nash Williams

Saint Paul’s River, Liberia

October 22nd, 1835

My Dear Father,

This letter leaves me in not a good state of health. I have had the fever, but now embrace the present opportunity of writing a few lines, my intention being to forward them to you by means of the Liberia packet which sails in a few days. I sincerely hope that my letter might find yourself and your wife in better circumstances than those which presently assault my person. It is to be hoped that you may live a long number of years, blessed by the Lord in many ways, and do more good on earth.

I am no longer of Monrovia, having relocated into the heart of the country. Before I left that place I wrote to you on two occasions by Mr Andrews, and once more directly, but I suppose my communication was transmitted into several hands and you did not get it, which is often the way. You know best. I am unable to give you intelligence as to the progress of others for we live so far apart, some few in this direction, but most in the capital town. I am truly now a pioneer of sorts. I am striving to do all the good I can amongst these natives, who form a most dominant majority. To this end I am even speaking a little of their crude dialect, which is very hard to learn. I can, if truth be told, understand it better than I can speak it, but with practice this state of affairs will regulate itself. Since receiving the land, I have not had the opportunity of doing much, but I have made some significant improvements. The first of these has involved the construction of a primitive school building under the watchful supervision of myself. The natives worked with glee, and now this heathen village has a mission school where I am able to instruct in writing intelligibly, in the Bible, in arithmetic, and in geography. I labor purposefully as a teacher in the hope that these heathens may one day soon become lettered. Come Sabbath, our school is transformed, by the simple method of my decree, into a small Baptist church where I preach and provide the multitudes with the opportunity of hearing the Gospel.

The second of my significant improvements relates to efforts to till the soil. I have made a start of farming, and cleared some fifteen to twenty acres of my land, and have planted it down with coffee trees, and cotton, and potatoes, and cassava, and much more kinds of plants such as this Africa affords. I have been led to understand that this land is exceedingly rich, and will eventually yield up everything in abundance. That is, if the seed is properly planted, and taken care of by keeping it clear of grass and weeds. With common industry, a man can raise more of everything than he can use, and have much to sell besides. I soon hope to be in the prosperous situation where I might expect to exchange the results of my labors upon the land for foreign produce. I am led to believe that a little of this trading occurs in Monrovia, but I am now, for good or ill, a man of the country. I will enclose with this letter some paw-paw seeds which are dried in ashes. Perhaps they are cured incorrectly. If they do not produce the required result, I shall procure a variety, fix them as they should be, and forward them by the next chance.

I will share with you a few words about the animals in this place. I have been visited by a cunning leopard in the past few days, who has taken off with both goats and hogs, two of each if my count is correct. I watched out for this creature but could never see him. Leopards often visit Monrovia, where they walk the streets at night committing great depredations. Here, far removed from what passes as civilization, their task is made considerably easier. Recently, I killed a snake of nine feet in length, and the proud possessor of a tremendous girth. He was black and red in color and basking on the margin of the river with an air of unfettered superiority. In addition, we have quite a variety of handsome birds, although their names still elude me.

As you know, an industrious man who is free from debt of any kind can live in tolerable comfort, yet when a man becomes involved in debt, whether it be his fault or not, he often suffers much from this circumstance. A little aid from you, dear Father, would do me much good at this time. ‘Giving doth not impoverish.’ I would be glad to plague you a little to see if you would send me out some trade goods that I might in the due passage of time answer with coffee, ginger, arrowroot and other materials that I will presently crop from my land. Good white shirting, shoes, stockings, tobacco, flour, port, mackerels, molasses, sugar, and a small flitch of bacon and other little trifles as you find convenient to send. Though cotton is raised in this country, there is at present not so much as to be able to manufacture clothes. If you could send some good strong cloth in order that shirts, pantaloons and other clothes be made available for the modesty of the natives hereabouts, I should be most grateful. A half-keg of 10 d . nails and a half-keg of 4 d . nails would be very acceptable. I also need some borax but cannot get it in this country. Please mark the box with my full name and direct it to the Saint Paul’s River settlement, where full knowledge and appreciation of my Christian work grows with each merciful day.

Since the passing of my wife and child, my wants are few, and of course they are easily supplied in this land of darkness. I have nothing to fear. America is, according to my memory, a land of milk and honey, where people are not easily satisfied. Things that seemed to me then to hold so much value are now, in this new country, and in my new circumstances, without value. All that I now wish for is enough to give me comfort and some small happiness whilst I dwell in this world, for I have learned, by means of sad experience, and by close study of the scripture, that we carry nothing out of this world when we go hence. In addition to my latest bout with the African fever, I have also a complaint in the hip which you may remember occurred before I left America as a consequence of being thrown from an unruly horse. I hope to meet in Heaven with my dearly departed Sally and my only boy, York, and thereafter dwell with them for ever. This blessed hope, to meet where there will be no further trouble, no vainglorious toil, no more parting, and to sing the praises of God and the Lamb for ever and ever! Surely the religion of Christ is my greatest comfort in this dark world. I pray that the Lord may bless, protect and defend you through life by his unerring counsel, and that when the voyage of life is over and He has no more for you to do on earth, He will take you to live with Him in glory.

My glorious asylum in Liberia remains under the protection of a wise God, who promises to be a God of all nations, provided they obey and dutifully serve Him. Although a country with some inconveniences, there remain many privileges to be enjoyed, for any man can live here that will work, although the quality of man that is these days choosing to make this new country his home leaves me with some cause for concern. Two months past I paid a visit to Monrovia to try to force the hand of that scoundrel who clings to what is rightfully mine. There I encountered others of a similar mind to Mr Gray, unchristian in their behavior and vulgar in their demeanor, whose only visible occupation seemed to be to prey upon poor unfortunate creatures such as myself. True, there are many fine, charitable societies abounding in Monrovia, and churches of all denominations, but I fear that unless the agents of the Society exercise a firmer grip, the affairs of this young country might yet slide out of course. I chanced to spend a part of one morning in conversation with Ellis Thornton Williams, of whom you no doubt have fond memory. You will be pleased to hear report that he has settled in the country to the north of our capital town, and cleared land and planted a fine crop of rice, corn and cassavas. He has on his farm about two dozen Congo boys, the greater number of them having been rescued from the dungeons of a slaver by a British man-of-war. He has very near ninety acres under cultivation, is blessed with a brace of fine sons, and is in tolerably fine health. This chance meeting served to lift my spirits, for by this time I was convinced that the character of all our Monrovian people of color was rotting in this African heat. My conclusion is that a man’s spirit and wholesomeness is more pleasantly watered and nourished among the heathen natives of the country, for there one can daily observe the evidence of Christian work which marks out the superiority of the American life over the African.