by the rays of the setting sun. A gentle breeze springing up, we soon lost sight of that charming prospect, and on the 9th of October following entered the Charleston roads, in company with two other vessels which had left Bourdeaux, the one eighteen days, and the other a month before us.
The pleasure that we felt on discovering the shore was very soon abated. The pilot informed us that the yellow fever had made dreadful ravages at Charleston, and was still carrying off a great number of the inhabitants. This intelligence alarmed the {3} passengers, who were fourteen in number, the most of whom had either friends or relatives in the town. Every one was fearful of learning some disastrous news or other. The anchor was no sooner weighed than those who had never been accustomed to warm countries were escorted by their friends to the Isle of Sullivan. This island is situated about seven miles from Charleston. Its dry and parched-up soil is almost bereft of vegetation; but as it is exposed to the breeze of the open sea, the air is generally cool and pleasant. Within these few years, since that bilious and inflammatory disorder, commonly known by the name of the yellow fever, shows itself regularly every summer at Charleston, a great number of the inhabitants and planters, who took refuge in the town to escape the intermittent fevers which attack seven-tenths of those resident in the country, have built houses in that island, where they sojourn from the early part of July till the first frost, which usually takes place about the 15th of November. A few of the inhabitants keep boarding-houses, where they receive those who have no settled residence. It has been remarked that foreigners, newly arrived from Europe or the states of North America, and {4} who go
