, commandant at Anamaboo, about nine miles distant from
Cape Coast. Mr. Hutchinson lived in his castle, like an English baron
in the feudal times, untinctured, however, by barbarism or ignorance;
for the polished, refinements of life have insinuated themselves into
his dwelling, though it is entirely surrounded by savages, and though
the charming sound of a lady's voice is seldom or never heard in his
lonely hall. His silken banner, his turreted castle, his devoted
vassals, his hospitality, and even his very solitariness, all
conspired to recall to the mind the manners and way of life of an old
English baron, in one of the most interesting periods of our history,
whilst the highly chivalrous and romantic spirit of the gentleman
alluded to, was strictly in unison with the impression. Mr.
Hutchinson had resided a number of years on the coast, and was one of
the few individuals, who had visited the capital of Ashantee, in
which he resided eight months, and obtained a better acquaintance
with the manners, customs, and pursuits of that warlike,
enterprising, and original nation, than any other European whatever.
In the Ashantee war he took a very active part, and rendered
important and valuable services to the cause he so warmly espoused.

They resided at the fort till the 4th March, and then sailed in the
Alert for Accra, where they expected to find a vessel to take them to
Badagry, in the Bight of Benin, agreeably to their instructions.

In two days they arrived opposite the British fort at Accra, and,
after staying there a week, they embarked on board the Clinker,
Lieutenant Matson, commander; and having sailed direct for Badagry,
they dropped anchor in the roadstead in the front of that town on the
19th. From the commander of the Clinker they received a young man of
colour, named Antonio, son to the chief of Bonny, who eagerly
embraced the opportunity of proceeding with them into the interior,
being impressed with the notion that he should be enabled to reach
his home and country by means of the Great River, or Niger.

In the earlier part of the afternoon of the 22nd March, they sailed
towards the beach in one of the brig's boats, and having been taken
into a canoe that was waiting at the edge of the breakers to receive
them, they were plied over a tremendous surf, and flung with violence
on the burning sands.

Wet and uncomfortable as this accident had rendered them, having no
change of linen at hand, they walked to