Revised Jun 19 2021
In the month of March, 1850, I happened to be left upon Pitcairn's Island, the vessel from which I landed having been blown off the island during the night. Four other gentlemen, fellow-passengers, were likewise in the same predicament with myself, our worldly possessions consisting of the clothes we stood up in, whilst the chances of our being able to pursue our journey within any reasonable time were quite uncertain. Thrown thus upon the hospitality of the islanders, avowedly destitute of the means of making them any return, we were not only received with the most cordial welcome, but treated with a prévenance of attention (the offspring of natural politeness) which could not have been exceeded in the most polished European society, and which enables me, in spite of the disappointed object of my voyage, to reckon those few weeks among the happiest of my life. My time was principally occupied in gathering materials for an account of this virtuous and interesting community, which I feel myself bound to make public, in hope that it may draw attention, now more than ever needed, to their condition, and thus partially discharge the obligation which my fellow-passengers and myself have incurred.
WALTER BRODIE