AN INTERESTING LETTER

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 13, 1869

AN INTERESTING LETTER.

THE following is from the pen of that devoted servant of God, our lamented Sr. Hannah More. Although a private letter, it is placed at our disposal, and we give it for the benefit of our readers, who will doubtless be much interested in its contents. It is an account of her return voyage from Africa, written shortly after her arrival in this country:

As Sr. H—— wishes me to give you at least a few items relative to my voyage, I will endeavor to do so, as you can thus see the care which God manifests for his children, and rejoice in his dispensations, however dark they may for a time seem to us.

After I decided to return to America, I learned that some American vessels were in the harbor at Freetown, Sierra Leone, Africa. So I engaged a young man to go on board and secure me a passage. The ship Africa was loaded, and ready for sailing, but refused me a passage. Next the Ann Elizabeth was boarded, and the captain demurred; said his accommodations were poor, but proposed I should go and see for myself. Accordingly I got a sedan chair, as that was the only conveyance I could obtain, and the distance too far in my poor health for me to walk, then the captain peremptorily refused me a passage, as he was full, having missionaries already shipped for the voyage. Next the Helen Maria was boarded to see if she would take me, but she would not. It seemed that I could not get a passage home any way; but I felt that the hand of the Lord was in it, though dark the dispensation. Still I felt disappointed, though I tried to be resigned to the will of God.

A kind missionary sister sent her palanquin for me to visit the liberated school at their station at Charlotte, among the Sierra Leone Mountains, about ten miles. While there, Rev. Mr. C., whom I requested to inform me of any chance there might be, wrote me that a vessel was about to sail in two days, and if I could be ready they would take me. I was so poorly, I felt it quite impossible to pack, and get ready, especially as I had my bed and some things to dispose of, and he would not wait a moment. Next he informed me that captain Matson, of the brig Chanticleer, bound for Boston, would take me if I would put up with the accommodations. He would give up his own room to me, and would sail in about a week or so. This seemed to be the indications of Providence. So the palanquin was ordered to convey me to Freetown. The supercargo called, and I had a pleasant interview with him. He had heard me spoken of in Hartford, Conn., and seemed quite a gentleman. In a few days we saw the flag at half mast, and learned that Mr. Southerly, supercargo of the brig Chanticleer, was dead. Indeed, we saw the hearse pass the mission house. We knew the yellow fever was in the harbor and in town also.

My mission friends said they would not go on that vessel at the risk of their lives, if they were in my place. So I wrote to the captain to decline his kind offer, at the same time giving my reasons. He replied that Mr. S. died of African fever; that the physician attending said there was nothing contagious in the disease, and his opinion was, that it was overwork in a tropical climate, or a sun-stroke, that caused his death. Said that he had had the ship fumigated, disinfected, and painted outside and in, and he was not a bit afraid, adding, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me,” &c.

My friends, instead of interposing, said that sea captains should not be more courageous than missionaries. So I wrote that I would go, and in a week or little more was on board.

Before this the African had returned to port damaged so much that her goods had to be re-shipped on the Chanticleer, and she was condemned as unseaworthy. The facts were, when a few days out, one dark, foggy night, the watch and pilot at the helm, saw, as they thought, a school of porpoises, a kind of fish. The dog on board saw the same, and barked, and ran into the cabin and awoke the captain, who only inquired if the dog was going mad, and threw his boot at him as a reward for his faithfulness in awakening him. He lay in his berth till the ship struck, and was stranded on shoals. Though broken in, still when the tide was full, they managed to get her off, and by corking and keeping the pumps at work they managed to get back to Freetown.

Captain M. and the cargo came with me on the Chanticleer. The Ann Elizabeth was in the harbor when we reached Boston, and when the pilot came on board, he said that her captain was on trial for running into a vessel, and had previously been tried for flogging one of his seamen in so inhuman a manner as to cause his death. Don't you think I rejoiced that I did not ship on either vessel? As for the Helen Maria, she had not reached Boston when I left. The captain of the Chanticleer was kind to me, and, though very sick during most of the voyage, I got on as well as could be expected.

Two of the sailors died on the voyage, and were buried at sea: a solemn sight to witness. But the sea, as well as the land, will give up her dead ere long, and it matters little where we die, but much whether we are prepared. HANNAH MORE.